


The Mystery Defender of Gotham

by ValliniMorley123



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: All Caste (DCU), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Explicit Language, Gen, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason-centric, Major Character Undeath, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Jason Todd, Secret Identity, we die like Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 47,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValliniMorley123/pseuds/ValliniMorley123
Summary: Jason loves his family. He really does, whether you count his assassin mom and brother, or his (probably) mentally unwell father. (Based off of the assumption that you aren't fully sane if you dress up as a flying rodent to fight crime) The problems come when he also loves his city, which has apparently decided to make all of their lives miserable. You can fight crime all day (or night, he's not picky) but it doesn't remove it, so what do you do? You keep fighting.Add in to the fact that he may have forgotten to tell his family that he was back (because he was studying abroad, not dead!... at least for most of it.) in the first place and you can see his issue.
Comments: 70
Kudos: 358





	1. The Masked Man

**Author's Note:**

> I am new to the writing of fan fiction. I want to say that I will be following canon, but we all know that I would either be lying or that I somehow made a deal with a demon. For the purposes of this fic, Jason's mom died when he as 8 he lived on the streets for two years and was Robin until he was 13 when he died. He was resurrected 6 months later and dumped in a lazarus pit three months after that. He returns to Gotham at 19 for the purposes of this story.  
> Now I am going to list the Ages so that you lovely people can understand my mash up of canon.  
> Dick also lives in Gotham again, after his stint as Batman, because I am too lazy to deal with the distance gap between Gotham and Bludhaven.  
> Ages at the beginning of this Fic.  
> Dick- 26  
> Barbara- 24  
> Cassandra-20  
> Jason- 19 (or 20 if you think he aged during death)  
> Tim- 17  
> Damian- 12
> 
> As a note, I don't own these characters, because if I did Jason wouldn't be seen as a mindless anger factory. Anyways, before I go on that little diatribe, some of the characters are going to be a little OOC, I hope you don't mind.

-Jason-

I stepped off of the plane, my duffel in one hand and cell phone trapped between my shoulder and ear as I climbed into the taxi.  
"Yes Tals, I promise I'll call."  
"I trust you will Habibi, but are you sure that you are ready?"  
"Talia, I have been gone for six years, seven if you count the previous issue. If I wait much longer I'll have to use a cane."  
"TT, stay safe Habibi, I'm sure that Damian will be pleased to see you."  
"...About that... I don't think I'm going to tell them I'm in town."  
"And why not?" Talia's voice was distinctly unimpressed.  
"It's been 2 years since I've seen the kid Tals, besides, I can't have the whole identity thing be an issue with dear old dad." I hear Talia sigh over the line.  
"Very well, but when he attacks you for with holding information I will not come to your aid."  
"Yeah, yeah. I'll call you if I get into trouble."  
"See that you do, Habibi. Stay safe."  
With that out of the way, it was now time to get reacquainted with Gotham... Hopefully the shit-hole hasn't forgotten me.

-Three Weeks Later-  
-Bruce-

The cool, damp, air, filled with the soft sound of bats, was lost on him as I stared at the screens, frowning. Two weeks ago police responded to an anonymous tip in the Bowery, uncomfortably close to Crime Alley, and found the dead body of the main suspect in a string of serial murders. A day after that another body showed up, though this one was that of a well known dealer with the Falconi family's drug trade. Both were killed in an extremely professional way, and the MO was the exact same for both. After that, the bodies of criminals started piling up all over the Bowery and Park Row areas. All killed in the exact same way, a bullet to the head. (Though it seemed that the rapists and pedophiles got a bullet to the genitals beforehand.)   
Whoever this was, they were no amateur, never being caught on camera, and certainly never being seen by police. Add to the fact that street kids or prostitutes that were missing were suddenly popping up found left and right, or being avenged, crime was down.   
While it was clear that their methods were getting results, they were also killing people, and they needed to be brought in.  
"Any clues on our mystery killer?" Dick's voice queried from behind my chair.  
"No."  
"Shame, but hey, maybe we'll spot something on patrol tonight."  
"Maybe."  
"Gosh, that was just the rousing pep talk I needed tonight! Why don't we go find Damian and see if we can make this day of sunshine and sparkles shine!"  
"Hrn."   
That night, as I suited up, I felt my eyes drawn to the case. Jason's suit hangs empty, as always. Too small for the tears that can still be seen, even though Alfred's stitching was commendable as always. Too small for the blood stains that could never truly be washed clean. Too small for the life that was held within, and certainly too small for the hole that was left behind. The plaque glares at me, daring me to remember the way that day felt, the way the heat of the sun beat down on me even as I rushed towards flames in order to find Jason. I look away.  
The truth is, I never enjoyed patrolling in Crime Alley, but especially since Jason died. He had torn into my life like a hurricane, upending everything I knew with a gutsy choice and even gutsier response to being caught. Making me laugh on the night of my parents' murder is near impossible, but he had managed more than once. He glared at everything with defiance, and I had gotten him killed.   
I don't know if it was because we had been fighting that he didn't listen to orders or if it was the fact that I left him alone, but I should have seen that he wouldn't stand by while the Joker blackmailed Sheila. His blood is on my hands, and if I can clean some of that off by watching over his home, I will.  
As I grappled up to the top of an apartment building, I heard screams. I swung over, Nightwing behind me. I had tried to get him to patrol with Damian, lord knows he shouldn't be left alone with Tim for any length of time, but he had insisted on a patrol with me. I had only agreed because it turns out that Damian had a large project that he had been putting off to continue patrol. That and Tim had a WE meeting early and Alfred simply refused to let him out without rest.  
When we reached the site of the screams we found three muggers and a woman with her son. They were dispatched quickly, and the victims were checked over. The routine continued, though as we got further into the territory of the mystery killer we were met with more and more hostility from the victims we saved. It was odd to say the least.  
"Yo B. Do you think that maybe they're more scared of us because of the new vigilante in town?"  
"I don't know."  
"Oof, that sounded painful, do you need to say it again to bleed the poison from this wound?" I grunted as Dick chuckled to himself, though I could tell it was strained. The odd behavior from the victims was disturbing to say the least. True, we didn't patrol hear as often as we likely should, but we still were seen as heroes.  
"Hey, Bats!" Nightwing and I turn, mid-swing to find a little girl of around 6 with her arms crossed and her chest puffed out. She stares us down as we land, her intimidating posture completely ruined by the fact that she had her hair in tiny pigtails and was wearing green leap frog pajamas. Her feet were covered in pink rain boots and her put upon scowl was mainly a jutting lower lip.  
"What can we do for you young lady?" Nightwing asked with a solemn gaze, clearly trying to keep from laughing.  
"Stop tryin' t' hurt Hood!" She exclaimed, stomping her foot, which splashed little bits of water onto the pajamas.  
"Why would we hurt him?" Nightwing asked after a moment, clearly shocked by this child's outburst.  
"Cause he makes the bad men go away." Her voice trembled slightly.   
Hood... Interesting  
"Why would we want to hurt him then?"  
"Mommy says he's bad and that she wants you to catch 'im, but he saved Daddy so you can't"  
"What did he save your daddy from?"  
"A bad man was coming by and telling daddy that he owed 'im money or somethin' so we could be safe. When Hood found out he made 'im stop, but mommy was yellin' at 'im to stay away from me, cause he gave me a sticker and told me I'd been brave." She gestured at a Wonder Woman sticker that was stuck to the side of her boot.  
"Did he ask you for anything?"  
"No... 'Cept if you count me stayin' safe? He's real nice Mister Nightwing, you can't hurt 'im."  
"See, we just want to talk to him, do you know where he is?" She stared at Nightwing for a moment before nodding.  
"Yeah, he gave daddy some sorta alarm thingy... I could ask 'im for it so you can talk to 'im."  
"That would be great, but isn't it getting a little late for a young lady like you to be awake?" This earned Nightwing a petulant glare and I wanted to chuckle at the slight panic it clearly caused my eldest son.  
"I'm 7. I ain't no baby! 'Sides you need my help. I'll be right back." She scrambled into an apartment building that looked like it had seen better days, but this was Park Row, it was to be expected.  
"So we have a vigilante named Hood." Nightwing was looking at me oddly as he said it.  
"Apparently."  
"Do you think it could be connected to... well..." The rest went unsaid, but I knew what he meant. If the Joker was behind this we would need to make it a priority.   
"We'll see." As I said it the little girl bolted out the door and began to cling to Nightwing.  
"Let's go!"  
"Go where?" She stared at us like we had grown horns, it was Gotham, so it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, but I doubted it enough not to check.  
"To the roof ya dumbie!"  
"Of course, so sorry princess." We reached the roof with a squeal from the little girl.  
"That was so much more fun than the stairs." She giggled delightedly. She then took out a small button. She pressed it for ten seconds then started to do cartwheels on the roof in some sort of way to pass time. She was good at them.  
"Oh no, I know that look. You're not adopting this one." Nightwing teased as he glanced around us, looking for this 'Hood'. I sighed as stood there awkwardly, hoping that this 'Hood's' intentions were not to hurt the girl. He was likely very new at this, but if he was the killer he also had some level of skill to have evaded pictures for so long.   
Suddenly a mechanized voice sounded from behind us.  
"Cindy, you're lucky that I was around, do you need help with these pesky bats?" I turned to see a man with a bright red helmet, a brown leather jacket, and grey body armor. He was equipped with guns at his thighs and a pair of swords at his hips.  
"Nah, they just said they wanted to talk to you."  
"I see... Well I think they might want this to be private. 'Sides I know for a fact that you're not supposed to be out past ten." That got a pout and a foot stamp.  
"No! Mom's not home anyways."  
"What about your dad he home?"  
"...Maybe?" Hood laughed and crossed over to Cindy.  
"Sorry squirt, let's get you to bed, hopefully you'll even stay there."  
"Asshole. You're an asshole Hood."   
"Yeah, yeah." He picked her up, balancing her on his hip as he swung her into the building, leaving Nightwing and I to try to sort through everything there.   
Hood returned after about three minutes, his body language still relaxed, but in the sense that he was ready to fight.  
"So you asked a little kid to call an unknown vigilante to an unknown roof and just assume that she wasn't going to get hurt?"  
"Hey, we're not the ones who gave her an emergency button that only works from the roof?"  
"She told you that? Huh... no it works from the street too... Anyways, is there a specific reason you called me here? Cause if not I have work to do."  
"What do you call yourself?"   
"The Red Hood at your service." He gave a mock bow for emphasis.  
"Are you the one leaving the bodies for the police to find?" Nightwing asked, subtle as ever.  
"Yes, but I don't think that you can pin any of that on me, cause I don't think that your cowl cameras prove much." I with held a growl with some effort, he knew about the cameras, as well as the fact that legally they couldn't present them in court because it was captured illegally.  
"So you admit it!"  
"I just did, yes."  
"Why? They were people! With families."  
"Families move on. They were criminals and people weren't safe because of them."  
"That's not for you to decide." My voice was a growl, one that I didn't even have to try to maintain.  
"Maybe, but is it yours?"  
"We don't kill people!" Nightwing exclaimed.  
"No, you don't, but I do. So you can try to take me in I guess, but I'd rather you not... Anyways it's been fun, but I have places to be, people to piss off so... Bye."  
He leapt off of the ledge, we pursued, naturally, but he was good. Really good.  
Every jump he made was calculated to the nines and he never missed a shot or stumbled. He swung through the alleys, keeping low enough to dodge quickly, keeping his flips to a minimum. Added to the fact that he was clearly used to running for long distances at high speeds, he was almost impossible to keep up with. He finally lost us, using the rats' nest that is Park Row, utilizing a clear mastery of the area.  
"He's good..."  
"I saw."  
"No, but he's really good! Like... Like."  
"I saw Nightwing. He's likely a local."  
"I don't see how he could be, but I guess we had better get back to patrol..." We did, but the entire time I was thinking.  
Who is he? He's clearly been trained, but he knows the Crime Alley area like the back of his hand... He's using the Joker's old alias, could he be connected to him?  
I would need to continue my investigation of him.  
But the question remains:  
Who is he, where does he come from, and what does he want?


	2. The Businessman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason understands that you need funding to support yourself and the people you care about. The issue is, he cares about the entire population of Gotham. Being a Crime Lord might help, but it still isn't the most reliable source if he wants it to continue past when he's gone... again.   
> Enter Talia and her miraculous Head Industries, stage left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've wanted to play with the idea that Tim and Damian are both involved in Wayne Enterprises. That and the fact that Damian knows Jason from before. You mix that with the fact that Jason would make a freakin' awesome businessman and you get this.

-Jason-

You only learn that sleep is important when you don't have enough. Unfortunately for me, I actually have a day job. (God dammit, I didn't expect it, but if Bruce can do it, so can I.) The thought of Bruce only made my mood darken, apparently functioning off of next to zero hours of sleep in the past few days isn't good for my mind. Fucking Lazarus pits... Anyways, Bruce...   
Oh Shit!   
I rolled out of my bed, suddenly remembering why my sleep was interrupted by the dulcet sounds of an alarm clock. Dashing into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the meeting that my assistant, Mary, had scheduled. She's a sweet kid, loyal to the point where I'm slightly concerned, but she also didn't seem to think that sleeping in was something worth my time. My only consolation is that the businessman I was meeting with is going to be just as sleep deprived as I am. Seeing as he had made it his mission to chase me across Gotham's skyline just last night after I had killed one of the major traffickers underneath Black Mask, who is a fucking pain in my ass...   
Oh god, I thought of Mary as a kid... What is wrong with me? She's 22... Shit, I need a nap.

-Tim-

It had been been two months since The Red Hood first appeared in Gotham, tearing through the criminal world of the Narrows, killing his way through some of the biggest players in the underworld in a matter of weeks. Bruce had been shutting himself off, becoming more of a brick than a man in terms of emotions. The time of year was certainly the worst that could possibly have been chosen for this character to tear up the Narrows. April 27th was right around the corner, and even if he wasn't there the day would have been terrible. Jason's memorial case drew my eyes again from where it sits, morbid to me, and doubtlessly horrifying to Bruce, Alfred, and Dick whenever they see it. I wrench my eyes away, sighing as I take another sip of my coffee. Dick's been tearing himself up on the fact that he didn't catch him that night over a month ago, even though I had the opportunity to go after him last night and he is like a ghost with the way he can slip through the alleys and disappear. If all of that weren't enough, Damian is acting like more of a Demon Child than normal.   
For the past week he's been irritable, checking his phone often, and saying little. Normally I would be celebrating, but the brat looks downright scared when he looks at his phone and doesn't think I'm looking. Draining the rest of my cup of coffee I run a hand through my hair and get ready to go to work. A new business had opened in Gotham, well, new wasn't completely accurate, but it was new to Gotham. Head Industries was the leading frontier of the pharmaceutical world, the new building in Gotham had quickly become known for hiring ex-cons and having a very understanding boss.  
That boss was actually who I had to meet with this morning. His name was Jason Head. He was somehow related to Talia, which... actually might have something to do with Damian's mood... something to look into.   
Anyways he was known to be kind hearted, and would likely be open to a partnership with WE to further his companies research. I barely held back a yawn as I entered the office building. Because it was Wayne Enterprises proposing this deal, and not the other way around, I had to go to them. The building was smaller, naturally, but it had a warmth to it. I found myself observing groups of researchers, janitors, secretaries, and sales clerks speaking with each other amiably, as they went about their work.   
While Bruce had reservations about this whole deal, I was only becoming more and more determined to have it happen. Bruce was worried about Talia's influence in Gotham, I could sympathize, but Bruce was also notorious for sticking with his first impression of a person. She had been getting better, especially since Damian had come to live at the manor. As I was let into the elevator I took a deep breath, Bruce wasn't the only one to stick with first impressions, and if I have any hope of getting this partnership to pan out I need to be on the top of my game. Stepping onto the floor his office was apparently on. A young woman with bright pink hair looked up from her desk, smiling at me as I came up to her desk.   
"Hello Mr. Drake! Mr. Head is in his office, can head right in!" She exclaimed, with enough energy that she had me wondering if it wasn't actually 9 in the morning. I smiled, or I think I did...   
Holy Cow.   
That is a very muscular man. Okay... He was built like he was bred for a way, knowing Talia... That was actually pretty likely. He wore a suit, but he held himself in a way that suggested he would prefer to be in something more comfortable.  
"Hello Mr. Drake, it's so nice to meet you, I'm Jason."  
"Please, call me Tim."  
"Well, Tim, I have to say that this was all awfully sudden. I'm sorry for the time of day, I apparently haven't been found out yet, but mornings aren't my speciality."  
"It's fine, I was up anyways." Jason raised an eyebrow at that, evidently seeing the perpetual bags underneath my eyes.   
"What can I do for you?"  
"I was wondering if I could perhaps propose a partnership between our companies. Wayne Enterprises has the influence in Gotham to help bring your..."

We talked for a while, discussing possible partnerships, Jason was clearly hesitant to agree to anything more than small time negotiations, but it went well.  
"Well, it was nice talking to you Tim. I'll run this past Talia and we'll see if we can get some negotiators to talk out the details."  
"Yeah. You don't have to answer, but what exactly is your relationship with Ms. Head?" Jason just tilted his head, his bright teal eyes sparkling with humor.  
"It's complicated."  
"Sorry, it's not any of my business."  
"Nah, it's all good. The Waynes are known for being inquisitive after all." With that he ushered me out the door, fuming at Talia for revealing more about our family, but I suppose that she wouldn't tell Jason if she wasn't sure he was a trustworthy source. She did love Damian after all.  
Speaking of Damian... As soon as I got back to the Manor I was ready to go to work on some case files, maybe even sleep. However, my life likes to throw me into the middle of family drama, that by all intents and purposes should be labeled as minor crimes.  
"What even is this?" Dick shrieked from down the hall. I sighed, wishing that my life would throw me a bone for once, but as usual, wishes are worth nothing.  
"It is an online resource I use to remain updated on the status of others."  
"It's an app for hiring assassins Damian!"  
"As I said."  
"What is going on?" I asked, honestly not wanting to know, but it was clear that part of the reason Damian was so pissy was this 'online resource' or whatever.  
"Damian is using an app for hiring assassins!"  
"I am not hiring any assassins, it simply updates me to the missions certain assassins have taken in the past."  
"Along with their contact information and the average prices to hire them!"  
"TT."  
"I'm going down to the cave, call me when you've figured this out." I called over my shoulder as I left them to their argument. Ready to type up my analysis of how it all went and my observations of the mystery that was Jason Head... Ooh. That name was definitely the worst one to add to this mess... Whatever, they'd have to deal with it sooner or later. Normal people didn't just walk off death, and as much as I might have believed him to have been more than that, Jason was dead. Nothing was going to change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know your thoughts. This is my first fic, so I don't really have any clue what I'm doing.  
> Also, I have no idea how business meetings go, I'm a high school sophomore.


	3. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason struggles with the fact that he wants to go home, while Dick is worried about his little brother's activities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I have a thing for worried familial contact, you'll probably see a lot of that, along with fumbling around issues, in my fics. I wanted to warn you, also, I'm playing this by ear, with only a rough plot outlined, so I'm sorry if some of the chapters seem disjointed or sudden.  
> I wanted to give a reason that Jason didn't just go home, so I hope you like my ideas.

-Jason-

Damn, Gotham hasn't changed a bit. I sit at my counter, eating some bread, that tastes fucking amazing by the way, while I got ready for my patrol. Thinking back on the day... Well, it did not go how I thought it would. When I heard that I would be having a meeting with _Timothy Drake_ I immediately assumed that he was going to come in and go all bad cop on my ass. Life threw me a bone for once in my life, though. I'm not complaining, but it's a little odd. I am so fucking lucky that I didn't return to Gotham right after being chucked in the pit. I would have beat the little fucker's ass ten ways to Sunday, and even if I don't think any of the Bats qualify for childhood... Well, he's a kid. 

The kid, and _goddamn is he tiny, what was Bruce thinking?_ , was just there to propose a deal. Most likely to monitor a business connected to the al Ghul name, but hey, it _is_ beneficial for the company to work with WE. 

God, I hated that kid. He took my place, filling the shoes that I was supposed to fill, Robin, Bruce's son, take your pick. It took at least three years for it to sink in that maybe it wasn't his fault, that maybe the kid just wanted to help. In hindsight I was raving mad, just seething to go out and kill the entire Bat clan until they realized that forgetting me was the worst mistake they ever made. 

Ra's didn't help, his 'talks' explaining to me that I was turned into a cautionary tale, seen as the failed Robin, the 'angry one'. Yeah, some of that was true, but not entirely. You go dealing with 13 year olds who are constantly putting themselves on the front lines and you'll need a real story to get them to hang back. It hurt, it hurt really fucking bad, but no one knew what Sheila did. To them it looked like he had flown in half cocked and gotten killed. Hell, for all I know they think that I just caught in an explosion... I guess not, they should have been able to tell from my autopsy that I was tortured before hand.

Taking a deep breath I steeled myself and got suited up. Leaping out the window and grappling up to the next roof I swung through the streets, avoiding capes with little difficulty, though it was clear that they wanted to arrest me. 

When it's a quiet night like tonight I find myself wondering why I don't just go home. When I came back to my mind in the Lazarus Pit all I wanted was to go home and kill every single criminal and then go home and hug Bruce, never letting him go... Then it all went to shit. 

Ra's flung that paper in my face, taunting me. It had been about a half of a year at that point, a half year of torture and training alternating. I think Ra's was just waiting for just the right newspaper to show me, the dramatic bastard. The headline still burned into my retinas. _**Batman and Robin Return Joker to Arkham**_. That disillusioned me pretty quickly. 

All of my energy was suddenly thrown into training to kill all of them, criminals, the Joker, Batman, and _Robin_. It took time, but I finally found it in myself to forgive them. They didn't know I was alive, they didn't know that every time that I listened in on a story about how I was reckless or how I didn't think things through they stepped on the pieces left of me, grinding them into dust.

It didn't matter, they were right. 

Now though, I can't go back. The blood on my hands can't be wiped off, I feel guilty over some of the earlier ones. They only died because the pit was screaming in my head loud enough to drown out any rational thought, but the people I kill now deserve it.

Meeting Damian helped more than I would like to admit, the brat was so small. He never saw my face, Ra's made me wear a mask the entire time I was at the compounds, nor does he know my name, the call sign Ahmar becoming a second name, but he's my little brother. Even if he's now running around in a suit that makes me want to scream and drag him home with me. To get him out of Gotham and give him a normal childhood. I traveled the world after about a year at the league compound, training with masters in everything that could ever be useful to the vigilante business. In the end, my fear of the Bats finding out I was alive couldn't beat out the call of Gotham. 

So now I have to deal with rain, crime, an ever increasing bat following, and the looming anniversary of my death.

Joy.

-Dick-

I can confirm that these past few weeks have sucked. From the moment I let the Red Hood slip through Bruce and I's fingers in the Narrows that first night up until now, my life has sucked monumentally. Work, while not incredibly draining, was simply a constant reminder that we had failed to catch him. The precinct had been abuzz with theories about the new guy, though none of them even knew that he was calling himself the Red Hood. At least not to start, they had finally figured it out when a kid from a better part of town who had been saved from human traffickers let slip that he had been pulled out with all of the other kids by someone calling themselves by the moniker.

Bruce and I had gone to Arkham, seen the Joker, and it was clear he had nothing to do with this. It hurt that we had to. That even after all this time, the fact that he was one of the first people we had to worry about in any given scenario, but it paled in comparison to the timing. Joker knew, of course he did. The wound was always raw around this time, Bruce harder to talk to and definitely more violent. 

The Joker's taunts still rang in my ears. ' _Why? Afraid this one will scream?'_ or ' _What's wrong, planning on making this one a Robin I can really have fun with?'_ I had tried so hard to catch the ever elusive vigilante, he thought he was doing the right thing, so he could be saved right? I had been so preoccupied that I failed to notice Damian's strange mood. I finally realized something was wrong when I asked him to spar, needing to get rid of some excess energy or just block out the looming guilt that April 27th always brought, and he turned me down.

Obviously something was up.

"What's wrong Dami?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with Grayson." I didn't fail to notice the lack of the disapproving clicking noise he makes when he's in an alright mood.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"It is nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing, besides, you're my little brother. If it's important you it's important to me." A slight dinging noise followed my statement, Damian immediately checking his phone and apparently not liking what he saw. I peeked over his shoulder, not wanting to invade his privacy, but it was clear that whatever was going on was scaring him. 

What I saw scared _me._

"What even is this?"

"It is an online resource I use to remain updated on the status of others."

"It's an app for hiring assassins!"

"As I said."

"What is going on?" Tim's exasperated voice sounded behind me. I turned to him in desperation, only to be met with a half awake Tim that clearly needed sleep.

"Damian is using an app for hiring assassins!"

"I am not hiring any assassins, it simply updates me to the missions certain assassins have taken in the past."

"Along with their contact information and the average prices for hiring them!"

"TT."

"I'm going down to the cave, call me when you've figured this out." Tim called over his shoulder, leaving me to deal with a 12 year old assassin who apparently was looking to hire one.

"Who do you even want dead?"

"No one, I am not hiring anyone. I told you this."

"Then why are you using it?" My desperation was probably clear, but at this point I don't really care. I thought we had gotten past this.

"I... I am trying find Ahmar." The name didn't sound familiar, but if he was on some assassin website it was safe to assume that he wasn't a terribly good person.

"Who?"

"Ahmar. He was one of the best of my grandfather's men and he hasn't contacted me in four months." Oh God... Damian is in regular contact with a league assassin, this is bad, but the kid looks so worried, I'll give him the he's dangerous lecture later.

"Damian... He might not be able to reach you right now. He might be on a, a mission."

"No, he always warns me if his missions might take longer than two weeks and if something goes wrong... Mother is supposed to contact me." Oh, oh this just keeps getting better and better, now Talia's involved. Great.

"Why don't you call him?"

"The only number he never changes the one he uses for high class employers to contact him directly. I can't use that phone."

"Okay, do you need my help tracking him down?" If anything else I would at least be able to arrest the guy. Damian looks at me cautiously.

"He might be taking private contracts..."

"Why are you so sure that he's still working as an assassin?"

"He would tell me if his intentions were to change. Besides, he would never begin right before April. He never takes a break during April."

"Oh, is it an April Fool's Day thing?" I ask weakly, dreading the answer.

"No, he never told me why and I never thought to ask."

"Damian... I will help you find him if you want, but I don't know if that is a good idea." Damian's gaze snaps from his phone to my face in an instant, indignation clear in his eyes.

"No! He's my brother!" With those words my lungs froze, heck, my heart might have even stopped.

"What?" I breathed, not daring to speak above a whisper.

"Not biologically. He... He took care of me."

"Oh?"

"Mother... Mother always tried, but her hands were tied when it came to grandfather... Ahmar didn't care. Even if they tore him apart each time." 

Oh...

I act on instinct, wrapping my arms around Damian even as he tenses slightly, breaking my heart just a little more as his breathing becomes slightly uneven with held back tears.

"We'll find him. I promise." Damian deserves to know if his childhood guardian is alright. If I can help him I will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I repeat a lot of dialogue from Chapter 2? Yes, yes I did. Sorry, not sorry.


	4. Shadows of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian investigates his first brother's disappearance and sheds some light on what Jason's been up to for the past few years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey... So I don't have a lot of experience with traumas or that type of thing, so if anyone would be willing to tell me if I did it correctly it would be very much appreciated.

-Damian- 

I cannot say that I anticipated Grayson to be alright with my search for Ahmar, the main reason that I had not told anyone one of him was that they were likely going to try to arrest him. Not that they could catch him if he didn't want them to, but it would be difficult to remain in contact with him if father and the others were constantly trying to catch him.

Either way, the hug Grayson had wrapped me in was not entirely unwelcome. He would likely be attempting to capture Ahmar within a few moments of meeting him, but I would take that over not knowing if he was alive. Ahmar had a habit of disappearing for months on end but after the first time, which ended with him being tracked down by a very unhappy Mother, he made sure to tell us when he was planning on it. Even if it was unintentional he would call Mother to warn her... I suppose he hadn't had an unplanned disappearance since I came to live with Father. Perhaps this was normal... No, Mother would have contacted me if that were the case...

"Damian, what does Ahmar go by when he's working?" Grayson asked as he released me and crouched in front of me.

"Ahmar, or Qunae 'Ahmar."

"Oh, is Ahmar his last name?" Grayson looked at me questioningly, his head tilted to one side like the bird he was originally.

"No, I do not know his true name. Only Qunae 'Ahmar. It means red mask in Arabic." 

"Huh. Definitely a language I need to learn more of."

"Likely."

"...So... You wanna call your mom to see if she's been in contact with him?" Grayson asked hesitantly. I felt slightly nervous, he had never been terribly fond of Mother.

"That is likely the best course of action."

"Alright, does she have a video call number we can use?" I merely nodded, giving to him as he ushered me over to the couch where we would be holding our online conference.

The phone rang for a while, long enough that I was worried that she wouldn't answer, and that Ahmar wasn't the only one in trouble. Finally, the call was answered, and Mother's frowning face appeared.

"Richard, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mother, have you heard from Ahmar? He has not contacted me in months." Her shoulders lost some of their tension, the lines on her face relaxing, as she heard me speak. However, as my words registered they returned with a frown.

"I am surprised that he did not tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"He has returned home. For how long I do not know, nor do I know why he has not informed you."

"Home?"

"Damian, you know that he was not born with the league. Ahmar still loved his home, even when he decided to stay and watch over you." I felt cold, why did Ahmar always inconvenience himself for me?

"Thank you Mother, do you know if he will return?"

"I do not, but your grandfather was displeased when he learned he had left, it is likely that a search party will be sent."

"Wait, this guy doesn't like Ra's?" Grayson asked, sounding bewildered, as though it came as a shock that Ahmar wasn't like the others.

"No, Richard, he does not." Mother sighed, clearly put out by dealing with Grayson. "Ahmar was quite determined to get my father to inflict as much damage to him as possible. However, if he had not been so stubborn, my father would never have allowed me to train him and introduce him to Damian."

"If he hates Ra's so much, why did he join the league?"

"He was recruited by my father to be his head assassin. Both for his skill and his ability to take almost anything and get back up." Grayson frowned, clearly not appeased, but Mother was likely not going to be able to speak with us for much longer.

"Mother, will you ask him to contact me? I would like to ascertain for myself that he has not done anything seriously detrimental to his health."

"I will. Goodbye Habibi."

"Goodbye Mother." The call ended and it left me with a lighter countenance, even if Ahmar was foolish to think I would not care if he disappeared.

"So... You're really close with this 'Ahmar', huh?"

"I have already stated that he is my brother you imbecile."

"Aw, I knew you cared... Anyways, do you still want to find him?"

"Yes, if only to ensure that he has not gotten himself stabbed, or jump in front of fear toxin again." Worry flashed in Grayson's eyes as I muttered the final bit.

"Was that a bad experience for you? Did he hurt you?"

"No! He would never hurt me, but when Mother found him she wouldn't let me see him for a week so that he could truly recover."

"Why? Is he that unstable?"

"No, he is simply prideful, and his refusal to allow those he sees as innocent to get hurt has caused him enough pain to haunt him." Grayson's eyes go a little distant at that, and he envelops me in a hug that is not as appreciated as the one he gave earlier. I don't fight it because he clearly needs it.

"What is he like? I think I'd like to meet him." I frowned slightly, trying to think of aspects of his personality that were unique.

"He is an excellent warrior. League members would travel for days if it meant getting to watch him fight a worthy opponent. He won't take assignments if he doesn't think that the person deserves it." Grayson tensed slightly at that, but he didn't let go, just tightened his hold on me after a moment.

"You said he protected you..." A wave of pride and shame flows through me a the words. Pride at knowing he thought I was worth it, and shame for being the cause of his pain.

"Yes... The first time I met him he had just been transferred to our compound. I was 7 and he never really crossed paths with me, but that night the compound was attacked. Mother was not there, neither was grandfather. The attackers hoped that if they kidnapped me they would be able to hold me ransom. No one was expecting Ahmar to be there. The night is a blur, but when the sun rose, only the two of us were left at the compound. Our defenses had been so thoroughly overrun that Ahmar had been left alone to fight them. He wouldn't let me fight unless if it was in self defense. After that Mother made a point of making sure that he was nearby whenever there was infighting."

"How many attackers were there?" Grayson sounds almost afraid to ask, but Ahmar's fighting prowess is nothing to be undersold.

"89. 16 of those died in the initial attack on the compound."

"How long has he been fighting? Is he a meta?"

"He is not a meta. I cannot say for sure how long he has been fighting, but I know that he first came to the league when he was 13." Grayson seemed to choke at that and I peered up at him, concerned that he was not getting enough oxygen.

"13? _13?_ " Grayson's voice was edging into the hysterical territory.

"That is what I said. Why are you so bothered by this?"

"He was a kid! A _kid_ , Damian!"

"Yes..."

"How... How long was he with the league?"

"At least five years... I don't see why this is relevant. We still need to find him."

"Yeah, yeah we do. We might even need to get B to adopt this one." I blinked, not sure where that had come from, but I would not be against having him as a brother on both sides of my family.


	5. April 27th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smallest coffins are the heaviest. -Ernest Hemingway.  
> When one buries a child it never goes away. Just because they are gone doesn't mean they are forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi... So I've been writing a lot lately... Well, for me it's a lot. I'm sorry if you feel that the last chapter was to expositiony, because honestly, I agree with you. Anyways, on with the show... And sorry in advance.

-Alfred-

I sit down, opening the album in front of me. No one else in the manor knows of my tradition, and no one will find out this year. Master Dick has attached himself to Master Damian in the past few days, working on some project that likely will end with one of them in the med bay.

Goodness, what a dark thought. The causation, I suppose, is that precious little remains of him, and these photos never fail to make me feel melancholy. However, I suppose that I am allowed to feel that way once in a while.

To say that I remember the day Master Bruce told me of Master Jason the first time would be a lie. I barely recall what the weather was like. I can only recall my shock when Master Bruce comes in, on the anniversary of his parent's death no less, smiling. He told me of a tiny little thief who had the courage to attempt to steal the Batmobile's tires. He would have succeeded as well, had he not decided to come for the fourth one.

A week later Master Bruce was called to the boys home he had sent the lad to. It turned out it was a front for criminal activities. Why anyone in Gotham is surprised by such things anymore is beyond me. When he returned he was leading a little boy who looked as though he would rather be in a prison than following Batman. He had entered quietly, and lived as such in the manor. He only spoke to add a witty comment or mutter gratitude when given something.

His eyes trailed after everyone, the muscles beneath his skin and bones exterior tensing whenever someone got close to him. Though he was quiet, he was also quite defensive, and would go from silence to rage in a second. It was clear that Master Jason saw this as his last defense against people who wished him gone. When Master Bruce began to train him he came out of his shell slightly, less afraid that others would harm him, and more vocal in his interests and desires.

Looking back... I wish I could say that it was the best thing for him, becoming Robin, but it would be a lie. The end result is to large a tragedy.

He was a natural in the fighting arts and his detective skills were admirable due to his familiarity with the thought processes of criminals. I shudder to think of what he must have been through to gain half of the scars that littered his small body, even before he was allowed on patrol with Master Bruce. Though he never spoke of his past, he had an ability to know where a criminal would hide, or strike next due to his familiarity with them.

Outside of the cape Master Jason was an intelligent child, full of life and boisterous once he became secure in his place. He never failed to make Master Bruce and myself laugh. A child so full of surprises, there were two times that changed our relationship. The first was when he asked to help me in the kitchen. I was quite bewildered at the time, allowing him entry into what was once my solitary domain, only to be surprised at the simple skill he possessed. Master Jason had explained that he did it for his mother when she got sick and I would never have had the heart to tell him to stop, even if it were detrimental to his health. The second was when I found him in the library. It was some time after he had been with us, likely two months. He was known for vanishing into the manor's many rooms and I was quite shocked to find him in one of the reading nooks with a collection of Shakespeare open on his knee. Needless to say we soon were discussing the intricacies of Shakespeare's works.

As the months and years passed his smiles became more frequent and his emotions clearer to see. Laughter filled the halls again after the silence that was caused by both Master Bruce's parents' deaths and Master Dick's departure.

There were troublesome times, arguments and near misses, the time Mad Hatter had shot him three times in the chest a particular nightmare, but they were to be expected in a household with vigilantes as the core members.

The last months he was with us were difficult, with the Garzonas case causing a rift between Master Bruce and Master Jason. Now I simply wish that I had paid more attention, realized that he had found record of a birth mother who was still alive.

Alas, I did not.

When Master Bruce departed to Ethiopia to track down the Joker I was left to my worries and an empty home. Perhaps this was the first time my worries were truly warranted. I can recall the phone call in painful detail.

**_"Hello?"_ **

**_"Alfred?"_ **

**_"Yes, Master Bruce? Is something the matter?"_ **

**_"He's gone... Alfred he's_ gone _." Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. The last time I had heard him sound so lost was when he was eight years old._**

**_"Who's gone? Master Bruce what has happened?"_ **

**_"Jason... Jason went after the Joker. And now he's gone. My son is_ dead."**

The rest of the day was a blur to me. Preparations for funerals were no new skill to be developed for me, but they were never easy, and one for a child so loved was.

When Master Bruce returned his eyes were far away, and the little boy we had held so dear was dead.

A vibrant life taken too soon. A life too full of pain already, ended in a horrific way by a madman.

_Master Jason, if you are watching, forgive us for failing you._

-Bruce-

The cave is quiet, its comforting quiet replaced with dark thoughts and darker memories. The smell of charred flesh, the feel of broken bones shifting beneath skin, and the sight of the lifeless child I knew as a son. The darkness swallows my thoughts, leaving room for new ones, wishes that will never come to be.

Teaching him how to shave, to drive, or even a combat maneuver that would have been impossible for a smaller person. He never would have gotten to be very big, his childhood malnourishment taking that from him, but he still would have grown.

His bright eyes and smirk seem to glare at me from the case. He didn't deserve it, we both made mistakes that day, mine was thinking he would be able to hang back.

As I pulled my cowl on Oracle's logo appeared on the screen.

"Great, you're still there. B, GCPD just reported that the Joker has escaped from Arkham."


	6. A Killer's Glee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Clown Prince of Crime is out and about again. If anyone makes a bet that this will end well they're an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weekend! Ha, in your face homework!   
> Well, that was satisfying.   
> Anyhooo, how are you guys liking it so far?

-Jason-

It turns out that reading Stephen King is a really awesome idea. Who knew? Well, lot's of people, cause his books are really popular, but I had never gotten around to reading them when I was a kid. Moving on. When you live in a city with crazy plant ladies, men made of clay, and tiny men who are obsessed with antarctic birds you don't really get the sense of weird attached to them, but it doesn't make the books any less interesting.

My phone ringing as I'm about to put on my helmet. I sigh as I realize that it's Talia. She would call today.

"Hey Tals."

"Habibi, I trust you are well."

"Definitely. Just about to go out on patrol actually."

"Damian called about your whereabouts." The guilt hit just as I realized I hadn't reached out since I was getting ready to come to Gotham.

"Oh, yeah, I'll call him soon."

"See that you do. Richard was listening in on the call so it is safe to assume that he has heard of you. Unfortunately I was unable to ascertain his stance on your influence in Damian's formative years."

"Fuck."

"I see your language has not improved any since your return to Gotham."

"Hey, my language is fucking amazing."

"That is debate for another time."

"I'm sure, now I've got to go, but I will call Damian, I promise."

"He's worried."

"I know, and I'm sorry, it honestly slipped my mind."

"I understand, but when he finds out that you are in Gotham he will be displeased."

"Eh, I can take another few scars."

"I'm not throwing you in the pit again if he mauls you." I heard the smile in her voice as she teased.

"I wasn't expecting you to. I'll call you later, bye."

"Goodbye Jason, stay safe." I stared at my phone for a moment finally deciding to bite the bullet and just call. The phone rang for a few moments, finally being answered with a short,

"Hello?"

"Hey brat, how you been?"

"Ahmar? Where are you? Why haven't you called? Mother said you left the league, what's going on?"

"Woah, slow down there short stuff."

"I would not have need for such rapid questions had you informed me of these occurrences."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry I dropped off the map, I wasn't really thinking about it."

"TT. It is forgotten, now answer my questions." I chuckled at the order.

"Yes, your highness. Talia was right, I left the league a bit ago, I'm assuming that I don't need to explain why I left."

"Of course, your distaste when it came to grandfather was never a secret. Where are you?"

"Home."

"That does not tell me anything, Mother did not say where your home was and I wish to speak with you."

"We're talking right now, Dami."

"You know I mean face to face." I sighed. _God I'm getting old... Is this what a midlife crisis feels like?... Or is this what a second life crisis feels like?_

Ha, I'm hilarious.

"Fine. I'm in G-" A loud noise blared over the phone.

"Wait, we'll have to finish this conversation later. I must help Father deal with the Joker, he has just escaped Arkham. Goodbye." The phone in my hand suddenly felt like it weighed a ton.

_The Joker._

_The Joker is free again._

-Tim-

I should have seen the trap, heck, I should have been looking for traps. The Joker is no new player and if I had been thinking at all I wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess. But I hadn't and now I was tied up with my hands stretched above me and the Joker dancing around me like the lunatic that he is.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the third little bird. You know, I've been wondering, what would happen if I introduced you to my old friend? The last one I got to play with thought it was to die for!" And with that tasteless joke about the murder of my predecessor he was laughing uproariously. When he finally got a hold of himself he turned and set up a camera on a tripod. 

My heart sank a little, if he was filming this wasn't going to end well, but at least Oracle would be able to track the signal before he dealt out too much damage.

"Hello Gotham City! Today I have a little bit of a treat for you! So you know how I killed the second little robin? Well! Today, the anniversary of _his_ last hurrah, I thought I could relive some of my favorite moments. Last time I wasn't able so show you all the hilarious little brat's last moments, so consider this my apology." With that ominous sign off, he turned to me. His demonic grin widening as he pulled a crowbar out from behind his back.

I braced myself for the first swing, but it felt like nothing could have ever helped. Pain burst across my sides and a grunt of pain was forced from between my locked teeth.

"Eh? What was that? How odd, the last robin I played with didn't make any noise on the first few hits, and he was laying on the ground." I fought to keep my face still and my breathing even as he whaled on me with the crowbar. I might have blacked out after the first 15 minutes, but I can't be sure, one minute I was hanging there, swinging around, and the next he was gone, the tripod now facing slightly to the side. 

I turned slightly, trying not to wince as my head protested the movement. My eyes widened as they saw the ticking down clock, fear washing through my senses. I tried to hoist myself up with my arms, only to cry out slightly as I recognized the fact that my arm was definitely broken, along with at least three ribs and my leg.

The timer swam in my vision, likely caused by a concussion, but I think it reads around 3 minutes.

As it got to around 1 minute and 30 seconds I realized that this could very possibly be my last minute to live. I wriggled, trying to slip my bonds, but I had tried that already and it only brought the pain back full force. 

_God, I had so much left I wanted to do. Was this what Jason felt like? I have about 4 years on him now... Oh God... He was 13 when this happened to him... He must have been so scared._ I'm _scared and I'm in Gotham, and almost an adult._

Just as I thought that a crashing noise had me snapping my head to look at who would be stupid enough to enter a warehouse with a bomb in it?

_Wait, they came in through the upper windows._

I sagged as they came up to me. Realizing that I might just get out of this alive.

I crumpled as the chains holding me up were released, only to be caught by a pair of strong arms. Gently cradling me as I laid myself limp against his chest. They carried me a few roofs away, setting me down on gravel of an apartment building near the warehouse.

"I'm sorry... B, I'm..." My words were shushed by a voice with a modulator... That's odd, the others don't use voice changers. I closed my eyes only to be jostled into opening them.

"Hey, don't close your eyes. I still need to check if you have a concussion. OK baby bird?"

"Who...?" 

"Gosh, you'd think the bright red helmet would be a dead giveaway." That's strange. Why would the Red Hood have save me?

"Hood..."

"Yeah, now I'm gonna need you to stay awake until you can make a complete sentence for me, OK?"

"Mkay."

"Good, good."

"Why'd you save me?" My voice slurred quite a bit, but I couldn't find the energy to try to fix it. Hood seemed to ponder this question for a moment, his head tilted as he stared at me.

"I-" His words were interrupted by the bomb detonating. The warehouse exploded in a show of fire and rubble, lighting the sky as sirens started up immediately. "I couldn't let you die. You're just a kid."

"Hey!" I cried in outrage, though it came out weaker than I had hoped. Hood just held up his hand.

"Look, I get it, but you're 17. You should be worrying about your next test and not if some crazy like the Joker is gonna kill ya over some stupid grudge no one really understands." There was something wrong with that statement, but I didn't have the energy to deal with it right then.

"But I like it."

"Yeah, I get it. It's kind of addictive isn't it? You should get some sleep. Your conversation skills seem to be alright." I nodded, laying back on the ground fully, closing my eyes and letting the darkness take me.


	7. A Father's Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker has Tim. Deep breaths, don't panic. Where is he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes, I know. Another chapter already? Well, today's your lucky day! Sleep is for the weak.

-Bruce-

The Joker has Tim. 

The Joker has removed all of Tim's trackers.

The Joker has Tim and is going to kill him the same way he killed Jason.

Oracle is having trouble tracing the signal. She's narrowed it down to 7 warehouses in the East Side. 

We have all split up, Nightwing and Robin taking a grouping of three near the docks. Black Bat and Spoiler are covering two warehouses bordering the Crime Alley.

That leaves me with three warehouses spread across the rest of the area and not enough time. 

When the explosion hits all I can feel is pain.

_Why? Why did the Joker have to do this? Why couldn't he just take it out on me?_

The ringing in my ears is so loud that I almost miss Oracle's words.

"He's fine. Tim's fine."

"What happened?" I growl, because he couldn't have survived that, I can't allow myself to hope. Not again.

"Well, the bomb went off, but Tim wasn't in the building."

"What? Where is he? How did he get out?" I know I'm rambling, but this is my son. I need to see that he's safe. I'm inside the wreckage now, seeing the wast that was left behind, the fire burning through the bits of timber.

"The Red Hood got him out."

"What?" Nightwing shouts over the comms. 

"You heard me. I didn't see where they went from there, but the Red Hood carried him out about 30 seconds before it blew."

"And you're just telling us this now?" Spoiler came over the line, sounding disgruntled even through her relief.

"The footage that was being sent was delayed by about 25 seconds. I didn't see him getting him out until just before the bombs blew." I draw my grapple and swing to the tallest building nearby, scanning for signs of Red Robin and the Red Hood. I see them on a nearby apartment building.

Tim's lying on the ground, his eyes closed, and fear grips my heart again as I realize that he may have been hurt worse than we anticipated. My eyes find Hood again, standing guard, even as he sees me. I land with a roll and in an instant I'm beside Tim's prone form. 

He looks a little worse for wear, but there's no blood and his breathing is steady.

"He's got a broken arm, multiple broken ribs, and a broken leg. He has a concussion, but he was forming complete sentences and following a conversation. I also checked for internal bleeding, but I'm not a medical professional. However I don't think that he has any life threatening injuries." I lift my eyes from their scan of Tim's dozing form and meet the lifeless white eyes in the blood red helmet.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Just keep him safe." I nod and bundle him up in my arms, draping his cape over his dented armor. When I turn, calling the Batmobile to my position, he's gone.

"Meet me back at the cave. I have Red Robin." The comms came to life in an instant. 

"Is he OK?"

"Is he unharmed?"

"Alright?"

"How bad is it?"

"He's in rough shape. However it's mostly broken bones and no immediately threatening injuries." Sighs of relief were heard through the comms as we all headed back to the cave.

When I deposited Tim in the medical bay Alfred and Dr. Thompkins set to work patching him up and putting him on some light painkillers. Dick stood next to me, watching as they worked. It felt like a strange dream. A _what if_ scenario.

This is what it could have been if I have been a few minutes earlier, if there was someone else there who could have save Jason. 

"How did Hood know where he was?" Dick seemed to be reaching for something else to think of and I latched onto that train of thought with desperation, trying to block out the thoughts of Jason, the one I failed to save.

"Let's find out." I grab Tim's mask, discarded so that when he woke they would be able to see how his pupils dilated. I plugged it into the Batcomputer, hoping that it had some clues to the Red Hood's identity.

The footage up to Tim's rescue was all rather horrifying, but when Hood dropped in everything changed. He was gentle and conscious of Tim's wounds, things that I had not expected him to be. Dick's puzzled expression led me to believe he was having many of the same thoughts.

_Look, I get it, but you're 17. You should be worrying about your next test and not if some crazy like the Joker is gonna kill ya over some stupid grudge no one understands._

"Wait. Did Hood... Does Hood know Tim's identity?" Dick seemed as shocked by the news as I felt.

"It could be a guess."

"Yeah, and how likely is that?"

"Not very."

"Just great, a weird anti-hero type knows our identities... Wait where are you going?"

"To find the Joker." I growled. He should never have been allowed the chance at Tim in the first place. It was my job to fix that.

-Jason-

April 27th is not a happy day for me. It was nothing special for my first life, but with my second chance... Well, not everything is sunshine and roses. Nightmares are to be expected, but during April my nightmares go from freaky, to being trapped in the hellscape that is my mind for a few hours while screaming myself hoarse.

I had gone from looking after Red Robin to hunting for the Joker like a man possessed, but in the end, I found out that he had been caught and returned to Arkham. 

It's not surprising that the others found him first. They have Oracle on their side, and I'm just me. What is surprising is that they found him before anyone died.

_Good for them._

I guess now there's nothing left for me to do but go to bed and hope that I don't wake the neighbors. Even if the walls are soundproofed.

The minute my eyes are closed I'm assaulted by a slew of images. 

_The Joker's smile._

_The sun glinting off of a crowbar mid-swing._

_A growing cloud of cigarette smoke._

_Handcuffed wrists._

_The coppery taste of blood._

_The pain of each hit._

_The sound of that terrible voice._

_The laughing, laughing, laughing._

I gasp awake, clutching my knife and realize that I've torn up the bed.

Great, another thing to do.

Gotham, in its beauty and danger, continues to make noise. The sun peaking through my window revealing that I had slept for maybe an hour, not that whatever _that_ was could be considered sleep.

Gotham, birthing place of a quarter of my nightmares... Wait that's it!

I spin off of my bed, slightly unsteady from head rush, and grab my laptop. 

Time to find some cases outside of Gotham. I need a vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter seems kind of short.


	8. Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's vacation without a little murder and maiming?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so this one is a little longer than the one's from last night. Sorry about how short those were.  
> This one took a really long time to get written, so I hope you like it.

-Jason-

Well. I said I wanted vacation, and now I have at least 30 ninjas chasing me through the streets of Star City. The minty fresh archer is nowhere to be seen and I've already killed the 10 they sent before this.

I need a drink.

My assassin suit fits like a second skin, the lower face mask and goggles glowing the comforting red as my dark grey uniform helps me blend into the dark areas I'm supposed to haunt. Unfortunately, this is Star City, so the bright lights and garish colors shine, highlighting our silhouettes as we run through the night. My swords glint in the light, the blood of previous assassins flinging away as I drop another of my pursuers. 

I grapple up to the roof of a nearby only to be met with another squad of ninja.

You would think that Ra's would be at least a bit original. I really wish that he would underestimate me more often. The group of at least 50 assassins circle me, unsheathing their swords. I don't give them time to prepare a strategy, leaping into the nearest assassin. The fight began in earnest after that, ducks and dodges morphing into slashes and stabs, I grimace as one of the ninja grows a brain and attacks me from behind. It doesn't land, but it forces me to extricate myself from the exchange of blows that I had been exchanging with what is likely their leader.

I danced backwards, slicing the achilles of the assassin with a brain, and stabbed a pair of ninja with kamas. The fight followed me to my positions and the blood began to flow faster. After about ten minutes and as many new bodies a light hit us. I ignored it, the news helicopter taking the attention of some of the less professional ninja, allowing me to take a few more down.

Maybe I'll get lucky and they'd retreat due to the media coverage. 

Just as I thought that, 5 more ninja climbed onto the roof.

_Well fuck._

I continued to parry and dodge as the circle tightened again. 

_Ah, fuck it._

I leapt onto the shoulders of a collapsing assassin and used it as a springboard to flip over the heads of some of my attackers. Immediately taking advantage of their surprise or turned backs, taking more of them down. Knives flashed as they were thrown, only to be caught and used against the original owners.

_Where the hell is Green Arrow? Isn't he supposed to defend Star City? The fucking media circus is here for the show and he's still isn't anywhere nearby?_

When the final assassin finally fell I jumped off the roof and began my trip to the docks, where the case that brought me to Star was supposed to be taking place.

A shallow cut on my bicep leaks blood sluggishly as I swing from building to building. It's barely a scratch and the blood probably won't even make a big enough stain for me to be worried about it. The ever present sound of a news copter annoying me as I realize that it will scare away my hit. Finally I just decide to scare the media into leaving me alone. I attach my grapple to the skids of the helicopter and retract the cable.

When I pull myself I'm met by a camera lens and a very nervous camera person, thanking my hood for covering the white streak I had to dye again.

"Hi, if you could stop following me I'd love it."

"Um... What?" The camera man had plenty of muscle, but he clearly wasn't expecting to come face to face with an a assassin with blood still drying on his hands.

"I've got work to do and those assholes attacked me, it was clear cut self defense, now if you could let me get back to it?"

"U... Um."

"Great, good talk. Have a good one." With that I jumped out of the helicopter, disappearing into the nearest patch of shadows I could find. When the helicopter had finally left I continued on my way. When I finally reached the docks I realized that I was way behind schedule. 

_Damn ninjas._

The boat that was loaded with the high powered weaponry and drugs laced with fentanyl was already leaving the harbor. 

Cursing, I dove into the water. Thanking all known entities that this wasn't Gotham's toxic sludge they tried to pass off as water.

When I got close enough I fired my grapple, letting it pull me to the deck, which had far too few guards. I tore through them with impunity, leaving nothing but blood and the husks where souls used to live. 

My extensive research had revealed that ever single one of the workers involved in this operation had committed some level of atrocity, whether it be murder, rape, or pedophilia. They all deserve to die.

I got to the cargo hold and found the reason the security was so weak. 

A freaking Terminator wannabe was down there.

_Shit._

He had a gun built into one hand and a sword clasped in the other. His armor didn't look like anything to laugh at either.

_God, I wish that I had taken a nap... Or packed my guns. Either one._

It swung it's sword arm, I crouched underneath it, jamming my own swords into its neck. Sparks flew as they struck but the damage done was extremely underwhelming. Spinning out of the way, I jammed a mini grenade into one of its arm sockets... Boy that was a mistake.

It turns out that this robot thingy had a flamethrower included in the package of murder, because _why not_.

Fire burst out of the arm, reacting to the explosive, and caught onto the crates of drugs. 

_Fuck._

I turn around and begin to hightail it to the deck, where I would be able to reach a lifeboat. The robot grabbed my ankle just as I reached the top of the ladder. I ignored it, pulling myself up higher out of the hold, even as it tried to yank me down to where I would die a fiery death. Again.

After a tense moment I finally extricated my ankle from its steely grasp, only to be thrown from the ship as a massive explosion rocked it. I hit the water and the air in my chest escaped in a gasp. I fought to the surface, pulling oxygen into my burning lungs, only to be hit in the head with a gigantic piece of metal boat.

Pain burst in my head as my vision went white. Then everything went black.

-Dick-

13.

Damian said Ahmar was _13_. 

A 13 year old ninja who had a kill count upwards of 50 in one night.

A 13 year old ninja who had escaped the league and was now running from Ra's al Ghul's hordes of ninjas. Well, he's not 13 year old any more, but it's the principle of the thing.

A teenager, or at least a very young adult, who was said to be kind, selfless, and hurt.

Damian said that he took hits for him, wouldn't let him kill, and even stood up to Ra's on his behalf. 

We need to find him. Talia said that he was at home, and Damian reported that he called 3 days ago, but has not called since. 

I dragged Tim into this to give him something to research while he recovers from Joker's beating. However, I had not expected him to include Cass and Steph. They had come back from Hong Kong a few days ago to help Bruce with the 27th. It's no secret that Bruce like to have his family as close to him as possible on two days of the year.

The day his parents died, and the day Jason died.

I guess it helps to see that they're all safe.

Anyways, Cass and Steph had gone nuts over the idea of another child assassin. Cass wanted to be able to help him overcome the lethal force they were trained in and Steph was excited to help Cass acclimate him to average society, because if he's anything like Damian he'll need all the help he can get.

I'm sitting in one of the living rooms in the manor, scrolling through a series of reported Red Hood kills. They had dropped off after the attack from Joker, so it's safe to assume that he's planning something big. It's as I'm sitting there that I get a text from Bruce.

_Turn on the TV. The league has been seen in Star City._

I flip to the right channel and call for Damian. He materializes next to me in a moment, apparently not having been very far from me.

"What is it, Grayson?"

"The league has been spotted in Star City." His eyebrows inch a little closer together.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Green Arrow isn't in the area, but apparently the news is sending out a copter to follow them while the police try to catch up." I gesture at the TV, showing the newscaster sending us live. Damian plops down next to me, his eyes latched on the screen as it shows the scene. 

It isn't pretty.

One ninja stood in the center of a circle of others, swords out and coated in blood. There were a number of assassins on the ground not moving. The 40 plus assassins were joined by five more just as the light hit them. I watched in morbid fascination as the singular ninja in the center danced amongst the others. The skill displayed was clear as assassins fell left and right.

"Dami, is that him?"

"I... I believe so. I could be wrong though."

We resumed watching, enraptured by the horror of the deaths of the assassins as they attacked him again and again, only to be met with steel and skill.

Every single assassin was dead when he leapt off of the building, making his way towards the harbor. After about 3 minutes he disappeared. I was about to turn off the TV when suddenly he was right in the camera.

Damian started laughing as I just stared in shock.

This kid, however old he is, just swung onto a moving helicopter filled with cameras and is... Is he asking them to stop following him? 

Oh. My. God. 

_He is._

This kid... I shake my head as I start laughing, joining Damian.

Bruce isn't gonna be able to resist adopting this one.


	9. Rescue Missions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vacation is extended by a bit. You know how it goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to get this out Sunday... Heh... sorry.  
> Anyways, I made some alterations to New 52's version of events. For one, Kori doesn't have heartbreak caused amnesia. Also clothing exists, because I say that DC's aversion to it is gross, great for a porno, but not much else.

-Jason-

When I wake up it is to the sweet sounds of the ocean crashing against the beach. My hood is scrunched up uncomfortably beneath my neck, but my mask is still on and I'm not chained to anything.

To be honest, that last bit concerns me more than is probably healthy. I'm not complaining, I've woken up tied to things enough times to last a life time, but it is weird. Weirder was that I was on a couch. I don't remember crawling out of the ocean, so someone must have pulled me out. By the condition of my lungs I probably owe them my life... Fuck.

I take stock of my situations before opening my eyes, noting the warmth from a tropical climate as well as the fact that my lungs burn just a bit. There's no IV line, not that I was expecting one, so that means no professionals are nearby. As soon as I open my eyes I decide that it was probably better when they were closed.

_Is this what a hangover feels like?_

Pain floods my head and I realize that getting knocked out and then almost drowning probably wasn't the best thing for my 'days without a concussion' record. 

So, not drugged, not tied down, left to sleep on a couch, and still masked. I'm drawing a blank as to anyone I know who would have done all of those things. The whole couch thing doesn't tick off even one person.

_If that isn't depressing I don't know what is._

I roll off of the couch, resolutely ignoring the aching of my entire body as I stand.

_Time to find out who's crazy enough to help someone who just publicly ended the lives of over 50 assassins._

_Yay!_

I find that I'm, unsurprisingly, on a beach in the tropics. I work my way inland some, finding the remains of what appears to be an alien spaceship. I've seen a lot of weird shit, but aliens aren't my speciality, that's Dick's thing.

Hell, _everything_ is Dick's thing...

I'm not still bitter about it... It's just a... Tender subject.

I enter the ship, hoping that whatever creature that lives inside doesn't decide to eat me or keep me as a lab subject.

_Maybe that's just a stereotype?_

I creep around the spaceship, noting that, while it is well kept, it looks like it had seen better days.

_No shit Jason. It's crashed on an island in what I'm assuming is the Pacific._

Ah the joys of having a headache from fucking hell. And I would know.

Ha, I'm hilarious.

I get to the computer type thing in what looks to be the command center and was going to see if I could figure anything out about my mysterious rescuer when a cheery voice.

"Hello!" I whip around, one of my knives suddenly held a centimeter from a very bright orange alien. 

"Um... Hi?" I respond smartly as I lower my knife slightly. The alien, who I would think is female but don't want to assume, is smiling at me. The alien could be a human if it weren't for the bright orange skin, green eyes with no pupils, and flaming red hair. She's dressed in purple and silver armor with a shirt that leaves her arms bare, but her neck covered. 

To be honest, it reminds me a little bit of Donna's costume.

"I see you are awake, I was not sure how long you would be asleep..."

"Right... Yeah. Look, I don't want to seem rude, but where am I and who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Princess Koriand'r of Tameran. This island is in the ocean I have learned is called the Pacific. I apologize for my impoliteness." She adds like she didn't just reveal that she was royalty on some far away world.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Princess Koriand'r, I'm Red Mask." I state, partially due to the fact that I'm still in my Red Mask suit, and because I've decided to only use the Red Hood persona in Gotham.

"Hello Red Mask. Do you know how the heroes are?" My heart sinks, she's either a villain or she's gonna arrest me.

"Um, sort of."

"Oh? How are they? I am not sure if I am ready to go back yet, but I would like to know that they are well."

"Um, well... Do you have internet? I'm not super up to date on heroes."

"Oh, what is internet?" I smirk, even though she can't see it underneath my mask. I turn back to the computer, trying to bring up google. 

I do, and begin searching up some of the better known heroes. If I get her the info I can ask her to drop me off at the coast of any continent outside of Antarctica and get back to Gotham. 

"Huh. I guess that explains why Green Arrow didn't show last night." He must have been trying to deal with this, either the press involved or the legal shit attached to getting him home.

"What is it?" Koriand'r was standing behind me, looking over my shoulder to see the article I had pulled up.

**American Sentenced to Death in Qurac: Roy Harper to be Executed**

"Well, I guess my vacation isn't over yet." I read down the article a little, taking in some of the finer points. 

_Ooh, terrorists._

"Roy Harper? That sounds familiar... Arsenal? Arsenal is going to be killed?" Koriand'r's voice rose with alarm as she started hovering slightly.

_Great, she is definitely involved with the hero_ community.

"Yeah, sound's like it. Do you want to help me break him out?"

"Of course."

I simply nod, formulating plans on how to get him out.

-Roy-

The wonderful about Middle Eastern prisons is that they have no shortage of sand and dirt. 

Hell, at this point my sweat is making a wonderful little mud bath. My skin is gonna be smooth as shit when they finally kill me.

The door opened to reveal the guard of the day. He was burly and looked like he could have been a bouncer at a bar I would have gone to had I not been trying to get clean.

Or you know, imprisoned in a Middle Eastern prison.

"You've got a visitor."

"Oh? A candy-gram? For me?" The guard just grunts and grabs my upper arm, pulling me out of the cell behind him. He comes to a halt, practically throwing me into a portly old dude with a bible.

"Hello Mr. Harper, I'm Father Adams. If I might have a moment of your time?" 

"Sure, but just know that it's going to be cutting into my busy schedule of sitting in a cell." The priest chuckles slightly then gestures for the guard to leave, who does so grudgingly.

"I'll be sure to keep this brief. Do you have anything you wish to confess Mr. Harper?"

"Look, I don't wanna seem ungrateful for you coming out here and all, but I'm not really interested." The priest nods sagely, though his mouth is ticked up in one corner.

"I understand. With that, might I interest you in a bible verse to send you off?" He extends his now open bible. Inside lies my bow. 

"Um, yeah. But that is just one part of it. It's not all that helpful without the other stuff." I pantomime an arrow and the priest's grin just widens.

He reaches into his shirt and unzips a hidden zipper. A fat suit sloughs off of him to the ground as he thrusts a quiver of arrows that was disguised by the material. The mask that he was apparently wearing is shucked of, leaving him in a lower face mask and goggles. He's clearly a fighter, his body armor covering his entire body, and the only distinguishing feature I can make out is the white streak he has in part of his bangs. He moves like a ghost creeping up behind the guard who was supposed to deal with me. When he's slit his throat and is confident he's dead he turns to me.

"Thank fuck! That suit is hot!"

I laugh lightly. 

"How the hell did you get the mask's mouth to move?"

"Trade secrets. Maybe I'll tell you one day." He pulls a knife from his belt flings it at a guard, signalling for me to follow. 

I'm not sure if I should trust this guy, but he is saving my life so it's not like I have very many complaints at the moment.

We tear our way though the guards and soldiers that come charging at us as we make our way to what appears to be a beat up jeep, but with this guy I'm not so sure. He moves like a goddamn whirlwind, flying at them with flashing blades and glowing red eyes. 

Honestly it's a little frightening. 

I've never even heard of this guy and it's pretty fucking clear that he's no newbie. If the Justice League have even heard of him I'd be surprised. Somehow he manages to disappear into shadows in the middle of the fucking desert, but hey, who knows, maybe he's a meta.

I don't know why that makes me feel better, but if this guy's human I will be both surprised and frightened.

Also, why the fuck is he coming to rescue me? I don't remember getting a crazy ninja dude to owe me any favors.

We make it to the jeep and he leaps into the driver's seat. The jeep turns out to be just a beat up jeep, much to my dismay, and he laughs at my facial expression. The jeep careens around the bend as he yells over to me.

"Don't worry Harper, we've got it covered." Great, there's more of them.

"We?"

"Yeah, some alien princess seemed pretty concerned about your safety. Consider yourself lucky."

"Starfire? You're working with Starfire?"

"Um, I don't think that's what she said her name was. It was Koriand'r..."

"Yeah, Starfire. You know, like Teen Titans member?" The masked dude doesn't say anything. "Damn, what rock have you been living under?" Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because he jerks slightly, mumbling under his breath only for him to suddenly stiffen.

"Shit, she's the one who dated Nightwing. I _knew_ there was something familiar about her."

"Um, yeah, but they cut that off about 6 months ago... I think. Unless they got back together since then? It didn't seem like that was gonna happen though."

The man is silent for a bit, so I occupy myself with looking at the surrounding area.

"The name's Red Mask."

"Oh, cool. I've never heard of you." That got a laugh, more of a snort actually, but it was better than the awkward silence.

"I'd be mad if you did. I don't try to put my name in front of you hero types." I was about to ask what that meant when we turned a corner and came face to face with multiple tanks. Just as they turned their weapons on us a purple and orange streak flew at them. They exploded in bits of sand and purple energy.

"Oh, shit!"

"Hello Arsenal. I'm glad to see you well."

"Um, likewise, I guess..."

"Red Mask, I am going to prepare the ship to take us to the island. Call if you have need of me." He gave a thumbs up and she flew ahead leaving Red Mask and I in silence.

"So why did you save me?"

"I feel like if I say money you won't believe me."

"Nah, nobody with the account to hire you would have tried."

"Oof, I know the feeling. How about we get out of this damn country and go relax on an island. I'm fucking exhausted and feel like sleeping on a beach is better than going home at this point."

"Um, OK?"

"You sound so convinced."

"I guess? I gotta admit I wasn't expecting a weird assassin dude to complain to me about his sleep schedule."

"Well, I guess my vacation has just officially turned into a leave of absence."

"I have no clue what you're talking about, but a beach sounds good."

"Sure Harper, now get some sleep, you look like you're gonna pass out if you don't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like excuses, but please know that I didn't intend for this to take so long to get out. I'm sorry.


	10. News Reports and Magic Swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The news has latched onto the new group tearing their way through a group of... zombies?  
> The world is left to watch in horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, life. You know, for someone who doesn't have one, it gets in the way a lot.  
> So, as a teenager with severe social anxiety, I have no idea how to write Stephanie.   
> I'm sorry if I get her wrong, but I am trying.  
> Also, I'm pretty sure I forgot to list Steph's age. She's 17, just like Tim.

-Stephanie-

The invention of YouTube is held in history as one of the greatest accomplishments of the human species. Right up there with the creation of waffles. Even though I'm pretty sure that those were actually heaven sent. 

Either way, it doesn't change the fact that YouTube is great. 

I've been keeping updated on the whole assassin with a heart of gold thread for a while now. 

Two weeks to be exact.

The first footage I saw was freaking amazing... Well, outside of the 50 or so assassins that were killed. But other than that, the footage was pretty funny.

The dude had the muscle structure of a god though, so I might be able to forgive a few things. I mean, DAMN. Those thighs though.

Anyways, the news of an attack on a terrorist organization in Qurac was what had driven me to YouTube. 

Dick's angsty ass had been all 'I didn't know he was gonna be put to death.' on his ex bestie Arsenal. Who got out the same day as he found out! The smoking ruins of tanks and the base of operations that he was being held in was searched thoroughly, but the only clue they found as to Arsenal's location was a fat suit, mask, and a bible with all of the pages hollowed out. How it survived in the burning wreckage that was left behind is beyond me.

A solid 5 days later and suddenly he's showing up in the news for working a case in Tokyo.

The footage that came out a few days later, a video of him being caught from free fall by Starfire, and promptly chewed out by an assassin with glowing red eyes and dark clothing.

The weird thing is, all of these events happened on different continents... Why do they get to travel while I'm stuck in Gotham?

Recap over.

YouTube's great.

So are waffles.

Good talk.

I'm sitting on my couch as I scroll through YouTube's news section just as a new video pops up. The title reads as it being footage from a security camera that shows zombies. I would be more concerned if it wasn't also from a gossip site, but the thumbnail had a picture of this 'Ahmar' guy, so I naturally had to click it. I just hope that it won't fuel anymore of Dick's angst the way that the news that Arsenal's predicament had.

Damian had been more of a little shit than normal though, he had been approached by B-Man with questions on who the assassin was. Bruce was less than pleased with the whole, pseudo-brother/ bodyguard thing. However, I think seeing his face when Damian called him brother was worth the explosion that followed the revelation that came once he found out he was still in contact with him.

He looked like someone had slapped him with a teddy bear stuffed with cash. 

Shocked, angry, and tentatively happy.

Of course, it was ruined when he said that he wasn't the father. 

Oof. I don't think I've ever seen a man so relieved and so sad at the same time. It was slightly heart wrenching.

The fight that ensued was nuclear level and I'm not sure how the manor is still standing. It was probably Alfred.

My mom was weirded out by my interest in this guy, but she's usually weirded out by things attached to my vigilante lifestyle. I just count myself lucky that she doesn't lock me up in my room every night like originally thought she would when she found out.

Back to the video.

I open it and immediately I'm hit with the appreciation of this Ahmar guy's thighs. Seriously, it's not fair. 

Ahmar is locked in a fight with what definitely looks like a zombie. He's dancing around the thing when suddenly he has full length, glowing swords and cuts the thing's arm off. The fight continued, a flurry of undead flesh and insanely hot assassin.

It looked like Ahmar was going to win until a second appeared, lunging his rear. The thing's arm went _into him_. He tensed, turning and sliced the arm, _that was still in him,_ off. The arm that was inside of him stopped looking like it was attached to his innards by a portal and more like it had been stabbed into his kidney. Blood made the fabric stick to his back as he finished both of the undead creatures off. 

I watched in horror and admiration as he started to walk away, blood becoming obvious as it drips off of his body.

He trips on a bit of rubble as he's leaving the scene, only to be caught by Arsenal materializing out of seemingly nowhere. It looks like Roy's yelling at him, then Starfire floats down, looking a bit battered, and lifts both of them in the air, hopefully to get medical attention for the bleeding ninja.

As the video ends I'm caught in the realization that Damian is going to see this soon. I need to warn Dick.

The phone is answered after a few rings.

"Hello?"

"Hi. So you know about the whole assassin thing? Yeah well, I was calling to warn you..."

-Roy-

Getting rescued was great. The ship I was brought onto was great. The island was great. Getting to see Kori again was great. 

Don't get me wrong, it's all been great... Except for the loud part of my brain urging me to figure out who this assassin dude is.

He's snarky, skilled, and _young_. 

The first time I saw his face I almost had an aneurysm. 

I had been walking around the ship, when suddenly I turn a corner and am face to face with a teenager. 

He can't be older than that, even though his eyes screamed that he had seen too much, and his first reaction was to back up into a loose fighting position.

He has a strong jaw, lean muscles, teal eyes, and black hair with a white stripe down the bangs. He's cagey with any personal questions, but I've gotten used to it already. Really, you just need to be patient with him and you realize that he's actually a sweet kid.

God I feel old.

I don't think he sleeps much, going by the bags under his eyes. But with the amount of scar tissue on his hands I'm willing to bet that it isn't really his choice. He once wore a T-Shirt around me and I don't think I've ever seen that many scars on a single human before, let alone only on his arms.

Kori and I have gotten caught up on some things, mostly what's been going on in the world, with a few inputs by Red.

I didn't think that having an encyclopedic knowledge of everyone who's been assassinated in the last decade was a thing, but apparently he's an expert.

Also, _holy shit_ can the kid cook. I don't think it's fair that Red can be good at as much as he is, but when he asked Kori to drop him off in the Himilayas, not even 2 days after I'd been rescued, we tagged along. Even if he didn't necessarily need us.

Magical monks in a monastery had been slaughtered. They had taught Red some one what he knows and he swore vengeance or whatever. We followed him around, landing in Tokyo 3 days after we found one of these _Untitled_ things and ended it. I may have been pushed off a building at some point, and then lectured by an assassin. Not a position I ever thought I would be in, but I'm not that mad about it, because that means that the little shit cares. As much as he may try to pass off as some cold hearted killer, and don't get me wrong he's a badass, he's really just a softy under the tough guy exterior.

We have been tracking a couple of the Untitled across a number of states when we land in a town in New Jersey. I stick with Kori until I see a weird green blast. I go off to check on her, and end up killing some bat creature. 

A bat. 

In New Jersey.

The least they could have done was _try_ to be original.

We dealt with it, then went back to check on Red.

He's got two of the Untitled dead on the ground, the magic swords that he can make disappear from his hands as he walks towards us. Only to trip on a bit of rubble, revealing that he has one of their arms stuck in his back.

I'm at his side in an instant, calling Kori to come pick us up and get her alien medical tech ready. She lifts us up into the air and I focus on trying to keep Red awake until we get him to the point we're not afraid he's going to bleed out.

He passes out once I let him, slipping into a painless slumber. Leaving Kori and I to worry that he won't wake up.

Well, I worry. Kori has plenty of faith in the tech on her ship.

He's laying on his stomach when I pull off his shirt. It's soaked in blood and I throw it over to a pile where I can deal with it later. When I turn back everything in my mind stops.

He's _covered_ in scars. 

I thought that his arms were bad, but this... This is just so much worse.

Bullets, knives, whips, belts, cigarettes, and if I had to guess a crowbar have all dug into his skin at one point or another. The wound that the arm left is bad, but the stitches are already taking affect, leaving it small next to all of the other damage on his back.

It raises a protective part of me, wanting to make sure that this kid doesn't get himself killed. Because if I've learned anything about him over these past two weeks is that he's got terrible self esteem. And no wonder, if the people who were supposed to look after him did this.

I'm still sitting next to him worrying as I hear a phone ringing. I don't recognize the tone and it takes me a shamefully long time to realize that it's coming from Red's pants pocket.

I grab it out, pressing the accept button and press it to my ear.

"Habibi." A woman's voice slides through the speakers, silky smooth and tense.

"Um, hi?"

"Harper, I'm sure that there's a good reason for my son not answering." I choke for a minute. _Son? Harper?_

"Um... Yeah. He's sleeping right now."

"Sleeping." The unimpressed tone makes me flinch.

"Well, yeah. He's unconscious right now. He... Uh, had a run in with an Untitled." A hiss of breath is heard on the other end.

"What is his status?"

"Well, his kidney's a little bruised and he lost a lot of blood, but other than that he's unharmed."

"Good. When he wakes tell him to call me. As well as his brother, he's terribly concerned that he hasn't contacted him." With that she hangs up, leaving me rooted to the ground.

Well. Red clearly has a lot going on. I might need to hang around just to make sure that he's safe from whoever's been giving him marks like those. 

Maybe we can go to Gotham. I haven't seen Dick in forever, and even if we didn't part on the best of terms doesn't change the fact that he was my best friend.

I'll have to ask Red when he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it?


	11. A Brother's Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian sees the footage of his brother getting stabbed. Jason learns that Damian maybe isn't completely safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of what I've got for you this time?
> 
> Oh, look it's my incessant need for approval and desperation for something to cut through my crippling self doubt.   
> Sorry you guys have to deal with that.

-Damian-

Grayson came to me looking worried. This made me concerned.

"What is it?"

"Have you seen the footage?" That sets of alarm bells in my mind. This can't be good.

"What footage?"

"Um... Of Ahmar." I freeze.

"What happened?" Instead of answering Grayson puts a tablet in front of my face and hits the play button.

Ahmar fought bravely. His skill ever present, only faltering slightly when he was stabbed by the thin arm of the second creature he hadn't seen. Pride filled me as he once again showed himself to be unmatched in combat. However, as he walked away I saw the blood he left behind. He fell, only to be caught by the archer and carried away by the alien.

I didn't say anything to Grayson, merely unlocking my phone and dialing Mother.

"Habibi, is something wrong?" Her concern would have been frustrating had it not been accurate.

"Have you been in contact with Ahmar?" A sigh came over the phone, doing little to ease my concerns.

"No, but I have spoken to his team mate. Harper says he will make a full recovery in little time. His kidney was bruised and he lost quite a bit of blood, but he's had worse and returned to us stronger for it." Grayson looks murderous at those words clearly having heard Mother's words and assuming the worst.

"Do you have a number I can contact him with? I would like to speak to him. He called at an inopportune time last time and I would like to speak with him further."

"Of course Habibi." She rattled off a number that I immediately put into my phone once she hung up. I dialed and waited anxiously for him to answer.

"Hello?" A tired voice came across the line.

"Ahmar! Where have you been? I thought that you had returned home."

"I did, I just didn't stick around." I suppose that makes sense.

"What were you fighting?"

"The Untitled. They've... They killed the All Caste." I felt the blood drain from my face as Grayson made a questioning sound from where he was listening in.

"How?"

"I... I don't know. I wasn't there."

"Did... Did Ducra...?"

"She's dead. They're all dead." I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing Ahmar didn't have to see his beloved teachers killed.

"Where are you going next?"

"I don't know Dami, I was thinking of going back home."

"Home? You never did say where that was last time we spoke."

"Oh... Yeah... Well, funny you should mention it..."

"Ahmar. What is going on?"

"I... May be from Gotham." Grayson let out a little gasp of air and I stood frozen yet again.

"What?"

"I... I lived in Gotham. Before Tals took me in."

"You've been here this whole time?" I screeched, ignoring Grayson.

"Oof. Yeah, my ears needed that short stack, thanks. Sorry I didn't tell you."

"You should have told me! Grayson would like to meet you, as would Father." The line went silent.

"No."

"What? Why not?"

"Just trust me. You don't want me to meet them." I was busy trying to understand what he meant as Grayson took the phone from my hand. I squawked in indignation.

"Hi, this is Dick Grayson, your brother's brother. I'd really like to talk with you some time." His voice was bright and cheerful as he spoke, but he was tense as he uttered the words.

"Give the phone back to Damian." Ahmar's voice was cold and devoid of life. That was the tone he used when he was restraining himself from violence and I quickly intervened. I plucked the phone from his grasp and placed it by my ear.

"Call me when you're back in Gotham. I would like to meet with you."

"Course Baby Demon, how could I resist. I've gotta go."

"Farewell Ahmar." The call ended, which left me with an intrigued Grayson.

"He's from Gotham?"

"So it would seem."

"Does he not like Batman?"

"I do not know. He wasn't entirely forthcoming with his past."

"Right... What's the All Caste?"

"A group of mystic assassins who fought off a magical evil."

"Why did Ahmar know them?"

"They trained him. Partially." Irritation begins to grow in me as he continues to ask questions.

"Oh... So is he coming back to Gotham?"

"I do not know Grayson!" I exclaim and storm out of the room.

-Jason-

The phone hangs up and I set the phone back on the side table where it had been sitting. 

Roy enters the room just as I hang up, likely knowing because he's been eavesdropping on the entire conversation.

"Hey... Your mom called earlier, asking for you."

"Talia called?" The word slip out and I begin cursing myself immediately as Roy's eyes widen comically.

"Talia? That was Talia al Ghul? Wait... Talia al Ghul's your mom?" His voice rose steadily as he continued his tirade.

"Yes. Now what did she want?"

"Uh... To tell you to call your brother. She also wanted to know your condition."

"Great. She probably wanted to call about the All Caste... Fuck, now she knows I'm hurt."

"To be fair, she didn't seem too worried."

"Nah, but she'll keep calling to make sure I haven't gotten blown up again or anything."

"...Again?" I cursed myself in my mind, which then came out of my mouth, I'm probably loopy.

"Fuck, what do you have me on?"

"Hell if I know. Some sort of alien tech stuff." I reach over to the tubes and begin disconnecting the fluids.

"So where are you guys gonna go next?"

"I was thinking of taking a trip to Gotham. See an old friend and maybe help Kori get over he ex."

"Oh."

"Unless you wanted to go see your brother?"

"Um... No, I was just on the phone with him just now..."

"Wait. Your brother is Robin! We should go see him together!" I grimace as I sit up, pulling slightly at the stitches on my back, only to realize that I'm shirtless. And Roy's eyes are on my chest. 

Where my autopsy scar sits.

"Where's my shirt?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Um, over there." I roll off of the medical cot they had me on and snag the shirt he had gestured to, just thanking all known deities that my pants hadn't needed to be removed.

"I'm gonna go call Talia back, or else she'll never forgive me." Roy just nodded distractedly, apparently still stuck on the autopsy scar.

Fuck.

I hit the dial button and close myself in the room that I had claimed for our stay.

"Hey Talia."

"Habibi. It is good to hear you awake."

"Yeah, I wasn't even out for 6 hours. Don't worry I'm fine. Why did you call me in the first place?"

"I need you to go to Gotham."

"What? Why?"

"My father has sent his operatives to retrieve Damian."

"What happened?"

"The league is being pressured by the Justice League and he wants to prepare Damian as a back up plan."

"I'll be there in 2 hours."

"Jason. Be careful. He's desperate and he'll do anything to be able to achieve immortality."

"I will, don't worry Talia. I'll keep him away from Damian."

"It is not that I don't trust you. I simply do not wish for you to be forced into my beloved's clutches again. Prepare yourself."

"Of course. See you around."

"Be careful Habibi." I put the phone down and open my door. 

"Yo, Harper! We've got to go to Gotham!" 

More damning words have never been spoken.


	12. Immortal Enemies, Mortal Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our valiant heroes prepare for Ra's return to Gotham.  
> Yay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ra's... Oof. Does anybody know how to write him? If they do... I was going to say that I would like to meet them, but my minor self preservation instinct is saying that that is a good way to die.  
> Also, Roy is a treasure that must be protected.

-Bruce-

After the Joker was returned to Arkham I turned my attention, yet again, to the Red Hood. After that night he disappeared, but if he knows Tim's identity it is likely that he knows the rest of our identities as well. It's imperative that we apprehend him. However, it seems that my children aren't quite on the same page. 

Damian's worry for Ahmar was endearing. The footage of what Ahmar was capable of was not. He was skilled. That much is a bit of an understatement really. He's fast, agile, strong, and his form is impeccable. Though it's the fact that Damian sees him as a brother that surprised me. It had taken quite a while for Damian to even tolerate Dick, let alone see him as a brother, and he's still not quite to that point with Tim.

Dick had shared the story of him with me in an attempt to get me to focus my attention on him instead of the Red Hood. It was disturbing, that such a skilled player had kept from our eyes for so long, but even more so that it was rumored that he was younger than Dick.

Talia and I would need to be having words about his past, along with his future.

The Red Hood had evaded us for too long. Deaths attached to his name had disappeared since Joker's incarceration, add to that the name and it leaves a theory of Hood working with the Joker. The Red Hood had taken over entire gangs in a matter of days and his influence now left him as the main competitor to Black Mask's ever growing empire. His disappearance hadn't weakened his standing at all. The growth of his gangs had slowed some, but the fact that they were growing at all without his direct supervision lent itself to the fact that he has a business sense to be wary of. 

I've found member after member to either not know anything about him or just not tell me anything. Somehow Hood knows exactly who will spill, and thus doesn't let them in on any big plans. However, it was just as likely that he just didn't trust anyone. The interrogation of some of his lieutenants not even revealing an ethnicity.

The methodical dismantling of other gangs and crime families is admirable, if not for the bodies left behind. Any place that Hood controls has fewer violent crimes and the support of those who live in the impoverished boroughs he defends.

Donations have been given to homeless shelters, abuse shelters, orphanages, and free clinics. I wish I could believe that this was a coincidence. It would be so much easier for me to take him in if he didn't actually have a positive affect on the city.

As I'm preparing to go out on yet another patrol to try and find where he's gone, an alarm rings. I spin to look at the perimeter breach warning, finding Arsenal, Starfire, and... Red Hood? Requesting access. 

Of course.

Of course Hood has been who my children have been encouraging me to approach. 

Of course he's Talia's trainee.

Of course he's seen by Damian as a brother.

Of course.

Hood isn't just wearing his traditional body armor and guns, he also is wearing swords and looks to be readying for a fight.

This is going to end well.

I send an alert to the others to get down to the cave immediately. All of them arrive promptly, changing into their masks and uniforms as I open the entrance to the cave.

Tim stands next to me, wearing a mask and work out clothes over his casts. They come off in 3 weeks, the breakages not terrible, but until they do he's stuck in the cave. 

Arsenal leads them in, Starfire faltering slightly when she sees Nightwing but the hesitance is nothing compared to Hood's.

"Hey guys. I was originally just gonna come to town to say hi, but duty calls, ya know." I watch as he waits for an answer until Hood speaks up.

"Talia called. Ra's is coming to Gotham."

"Why?" Tim speaks up from beside me, looking uneasy. 

"He's coming for Damian. Apparently he's the back up plan for if the Justice League gets to him." Robin bristles slightly.

"I will not join him."

"I never said you did brat, but Tals asked me to come watch you for her." I see the moment Robin understands just who Hood is.

"Ahmar?"

"Hey kiddo. I guess we've got a lot to talk about huh?" Nightwing stares at him, likely not wanting to affiliate what he's learned of Ahmar with the Red Hood. I turn away, trusting that Damian can take him if something happens. If Ra's is coming to Gotham we need to be prepared.

"Did Talia say how he was going to be carrying this out?" The words are delivered flat, compartmentalizing.

"No. She just wanted me to be here."

"And you came? A few hours ago you definitely sounded against coming here." Nightwing's words come as a bit of a surprise, I was not under the impression that they had been in contact. 

"Just because I don't want to be here doesn't mean that I'm willing to risk Damian's freedom." Silence fills the cave, the bats not stirring. 

"O-Kay... So, is there a place we could go to catch up? We all know each other's secret identities. So..."

"Right, can Cass and I go on patrol? I don't really want to be around for all the angst you guys have going on." Spoiler asked, her hand raised. Hood tilted his head back and laughed, the sound grating through the voice filters. I nodded as they geared up to exit. 

Dick walked over to Roy and Starfire, likely wanting to catch up on what has been going on. 

Damian grabbed Ahmar by the hand and began dragging him up to the manor where he would likely show him Titus. As they passed Tim, he reached out and grabbed Ahmar's arm.

"I never said it before, but thank you for saving me."

"No problem baby bird." Tim's face scrunched up in distaste and Hood snorts, as Damian pulls him away.

Tim goes over to the batcomputer, opening up his case files. Going to my study, I reach for my phone.

"Beloved. To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice?"

"Who is Ahmar?"

"Oh? Has he arrived?"

"Yes, who is he?"

"I'm afraid it's not my place to say. He is trustworthy, if that is what you are asking."

"Why was Ra's interested in him?"

"He has quite the ability to get up from things he shouldn't. Nothing I've ever seen has stopped him for long. He is also fiercely loyal, though he would deny it to any bystander." Sounds like he might be a meta.

"Is he a meta?"

"No. Believe me, we tested him. And before you ask, he's entirely human." That sounds ominous.

"What is his name?"

"That is information that is not mine to give. Perhaps if he trusts you he will tell you. However, I should warn you, if he doesn't want you to know, even your stubbornness pales next to his. Do not cause him pain. He has felt too much already." 

With that she hung up.

-Dick-

Seeing Roy and Kori... I wasn't ready. Hell, I don't know if I'll ever be ready. Kori's not really talking to me much, which is fair. We didn't part on the best of terms and most of that is my fault.

Roy on the other hand... Well, apparently he's forgiven most of our previous arguments but I guess being in a Middle Eastern prison puts things into perspective. We talked in a tense sort of way until Kori left to go back to her spaceship. As soon as she left I turned to Roy.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? The whole alcohol thing? Cause you were helping me out, I just refused to see it. Yeah, you could have handled it differently, but you were just doing your best."

"No, for leaving you in that prison." Roy's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Somehow I don't think you knew I was there."

"I didn't, and I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention. If I had I would have gotten you out sooner."

"Look, am I kind of disappointed that I didn't get out of there earlier? Yeah. The food was shit. But you have your own life, the only person I'm really pissed at is Ollie." Oh, I guess that makes sense. Oliver was supposed to be his guardian.

"That doesn't make it alright-" Roy cut me off with a hand and a stern look.

"I'm gonna stop you there. I had been avoiding everybody for a while. It's not really your fault. Do I still think you're a bit of an ass? Yes, but I also recognize the fact that we've been friends for years and I doubt you would have let me rot in a Middle Eastern prison for something I didn't do."

"Oh, Okay... So, how did you meet Ahmar?" Roy stared at me blankly.

"Who?"

"Um... Red Mask... Red Hood, whichever." Roy's eyes light up in recognition.

"Oh! Yeah, he goes by Red Mask... Though I think I like Red Hood better. Anyways. He just shows up out of the blue one day, pretending to be a priest or whatever and has one of my bows folded up in a hollowed out bible. Honestly, I have no idea how he made the mask he was in speak." 

"Damian's been up in fight mode about him for around 3 months now."

"What, why?"

"He dropped out of contact. I had no idea he even existed until about a 2 months ago. Then Damian has this app that has the contact info of all these different assassins that have claimed contracts and I think that he's about to hire one!"

"Oh my god. That's great! Who even is he? Is Ahmar his name?" Roy

"Nah, honestly I was hoping you could tell me. Ahmar means red in Arabic."

"Dammit. Here I was hoping I would be able to figure out more. The kid is freaky good at pretty much everything."

"You've seen his face? Even Damian hasn't seen his face."

"Wait. Hold up. Aren't they supposed to be brothers or some shit?"

"Yeah, but he's more of an adopted sibling. Apparently he wasn't supposed to remove his mask when he was around other people."

"Oh. That's cool I guess... Well, yeah he's a kid. Can't be older than 20."

"Damn."

"Yeah, first time I saw him I almost had a heart attack. I thought that someone had just wandered in."

"What's he like? Damian wouldn't tell me much."

"I'm not surprised. The kid is like a machine. He learned about the Untitled and he was like a bloodhound with a scent. He just goes." I stiffen, remembering the footage.

"Wait! He was stabbed!" Roy looks at me like I'm slow on the uptake.

"Um, yeah. You saw that?" At my nod he continues, "Yeah, he was pretty out of it. He's fine for the most part, the arm didn't get super deep and it plugged most of the blood from flowing out until Kori and I could get him to her ship. He took it really well." Roy shakes his head, looking disturbed, "But man... I have never, ever, seen anyone with that many scars." 

I frowned, if Roy thought it was bad. It was bad. He wasn't squeamish. 

I was about to ask what he thought they were from when Oracle's emblem appeared on the batcomputer. 

"Guys, we have a problem. The league is in Gotham, and they aren't trying to hide."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep using Barbara as a signal of doom, but I promise she will see more action in the future.


	13. The League of Assassins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ra's has come for his back up plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so there's going to be some plot stuff in here that might make a few of you weirded out it, so if you have any questions just ask.

-Cassandra-

The man with a red helmet, Hood, his body screams anger and pain. As Stephanie and I prepare to go out on patrol I watch him from the corner of my eye. He has one of the most expressive stances I've ever read, it's almost a shock that the others can't tell.

When his eyes are on Damian his body shows _love, protect, family,_ and oddly _anger._ I trust him not to hurt him, but it is the others I'm worried about. Whenever his eyes land on Bruce, Tim, or Dick his body cries out _scared, hurt, pain, angry..._ and... _love_? Maybe he loves what they do to save the city. 

Hood is a mess of contradictions, and I wish I could see his face so that I could understand it better. When he looks at Stephanie and I he just seems intrigued, so I suppose that he doesn't know much about us. Stephanie and I leap and swing through patrol like normal, but this time Stephanie is only really focused on Hood.

"He came for Damian, right? Does that mean he's gonna be staying for a long time? Why does he not like B-Man and Nightwing?"

"Scared." Spoiler stopped, looking back at me from where she was travelling slight ahead.

"What?"

"Scared. Of Batman and Nightwing. Angry at them too."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Huh, things to think about... Wait, what's that?" I follow her gaze, seeing three shadows trailing us.

"League."

"I'm calling Oracle." I nod and continue on, patrol had been quiet tonight, and the assassins were staying pretty far behind us. We continued our route, taking down thugs and muggers.

"Guys, I'm going to need to ask you to come to the Clocktower. The league has operatives all over Gotham. They're not hiding, at least not from us." Oracle's voice chimed in from the comms."

We begin swinging through the streets, leaping over alleys, and finally reached Oracle's Clocktower.

"No, I don't know where they came from! They're just here, alright. Look, Bruce, just get Damian somewhere safe." Barbara turned her wheelchair to face us, frown highlighting the slight wrinkles developing between her brows. The expression relaxed slightly when she saw us though.

"Great, you guys got here! Did your tail give you any trouble?" I shook my head as Stephanie piped up.

"No, they were actually very courteous. Do we know their plan?" With that question Barbara's frown returned full force.

"No, they seem to have been expecting him to be patrolling, what's weirder is that they've concentrated their forces around Crime Alley, even when Robin is known to patrol with Nightwing, who doesn't go there very often."

"Hood. They are looking for him." Barbara turned to me.

"What does Hood have to do with any of this? He hasn't been seen in weeks." Stephanie snorted, looking annoyed.

"What B-Man didn't tell you? Why am I not surprised. Hood showed up at the cave with Arsenal and Starfire. Apparently he's the assassin that we've all been trying to contact." 

"That would explain some things. Maybe they thought they could catch him before he would be able to get to Damian. He is a bit of a wild card." Stephanie nodded sagely and jumped up to sit on Oracle's desk. Barbara just sighed. 

An alarm startled Stephanie off of her perch and Barbara whipped back to her computers.

"The league is in the manor. Send Spoiler and Black Bat." Oracle uttered an affirmative, but we were already rushing back home. 

They won't hurt my family, or my family's family. I won't let them.

-Damian-

Ahmar was seemingly content to let me introduce him to Titus, Goliath, and Batcow. He laughed lightly at Titus' name but I must blame him, he's the one who introduced me to Shakespeare's works after all. Pennyworth had simply raised an eyebrow when I selected the name. We sat together in a comfortable silence, petting Titus and falling into a meditative quiet.

I missed this. 

Ahmar would always make time to simply sit with me. It wasn't everyday, but when he was at the same compounds as I was we would often read, or simply sit together.

He introduced me to the great playwrights and taught me about the world outside of the compounds. I remember the days that he read me Pride and Prejudice, his love for the book shining through every single word he spoke.

Father knocked on the door and the relaxation that Ahmar had been showcasing was thrown away. He got to his feet stiffly, turning to Father and tilting his head in silent askance.

"We need to get Robin somewhere safe. If the league is coming for him we need to get him to a secure location."

"Where do you suggest?" Ahmar's voice screamed displeasure, even through the modulation.

"The cave is likely the safest place."

"You do realize that Ra's is going to expect you to do that."

"It doesn't matter. We can defend it."

"It doesn't matter if you can defend it if you do something he doesn't expect."

"What would you have us do?"

"Let me take him. I have a few safe houses Ra's won't know about."

"No. Damian is staying here."

"Father..." I trailed off as a small explosion rocked the manor. I was still in Robin gear, not having bothered to dress in relaxation clothes after Father's call, and I grabbed at my katana.

"Hood, I don't want you killing."

"It's a terrible thing to not get what you want."

"Have this discussion later! There are intruders!"

"Sure thing shortstop. Let's get you to a safe house."

"Damian, get to the cave." I look between the 2 of them, only to be shoved through a doorway by Ahmar, barely saved from a shuirken to the head.

"Dammit Bruce! Why can't you just listen to me!"

Father made no reply, he was engaged in combat, trading blows with a few simple assassins. I made to go down to the cave. Only for my path to be cut off by a squad of assassins coming from the end of the hall.

"Damian, come on. I know you want to listen to your dad, but I've got to get you somewhere safe. I promised." I nodded slightly, turning to follow him. We tore through the hallways, Ahmar somehow knowing how to navigate the vast manor, and got to the garage. Ahmar didn't give the cars a single glance, but headed straight for the small amount of motorcycles Father kept on hand. 

He mounted the bike with practiced ease, hot-wiring it in a matter of seconds. I slid on behind him, hoping that grandfather didn't expect Ahmar to be present.

The bike roared to life and we sped down the road to the manor. We continued on a dizzying ride, traversing through the streets faster than I had ever done before. I mentally cursed myself, how could I have been so blind? It was obvious that Ahmar was a Gotham native now. 

His slight accent, the prickly attitude that no other city's citizens could muster, and his knowledge of all bat business now clearly highlighted in my memory. I had simply been too blind to see it. 

Ahmar stopped the bike with a skid that almost sent us horizontal, before shoving me off the bike and forcing a key into my hands. 

"Third floor, apartment 309. Get there and lock up. Only open the door for someone you trust entirely and not before you get them to prove it's them. I'll be around, but don't leave until someone comes to get you."

"I can fight! You can't hide me away!" Ahmar just sighed and put a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm not doing this because I think you can't fight. I'm doing this because they don't want to fight. They just want to get a lucky hit in and take you back to Ra's. Go to the apartment and stay there. You'll be fine."

"I am not worried about myself you imbecile! Grandfather hates you!"

"Yeah, but he isn't here is he? Now get to the apartment, it's been outfitted to keep you safe." With that, he grappled up to the building across the street and watched me. 

I huffed, irritated that he still thinks me a child in need of protection, and enter his safe house. It is disgusting. The apartment building was clearly abandoned years ago, but the rooms that he told me were secured were cleaned enough for me to tell that he had, in fact made sure that it was safe. Peering out the window I am met with a sight I am immediately entranced by.

Ahmar is fighting a squad of elite assassins. They still are not a match for him, but he seems to be struggling slightly with their numbers. Ahmar is set to win until he falters, seemingly brought on by the appearance of a new weapon. 

Strange, Ahmar has never shown a dislike of certain weapons being used against him. He always just laughs and berates their choice no matter what it is. I extract a pair of collapsible binoculars from my belt and study the fight through them.

The weapon that made him falter was a crowbar.

Odd.

His hesitance in dealing with the new weapon led to him getting hit full force in the ribs. I wince in sympathy, waiting for him to get up from where he's sprawled. 

He doesn't. 

Panic grips my chest as the assassins drag him up. 

This doesn't make sense. I've seen Ahmar take hits worse than this in stride, only stopping when his body gave out on him, but now... Ahmar's chest is rising and falling too rapidly to be healthy, likely some form of panic attack.

I remember seeing a few of the scars that I had so admired, back at the league. 

Oh.

Oh no.

Ahmar is panicking and as I get ready to leave I notice the lips of the lead assassin moving.

"The Demon's Head requests your presence... Do not disrespect him so, your mere existence is at his mercy... I do not believe that fate will grant you another chance _feniks_." With that, the lead assassin jams a needle into Ahmar's neck. After a few seconds he goes limp and they drag his body over the side of the roof.

I reach for the window, only to find that it will not budge. 

Ahmar has locked me in.

I reach for my comm, tapping into the chatter.

"They have Ahmar."

"What?"

"Are you alright?" 

"What's going on?"

"Where are you?" A litany questions falls from the family's lips, only to be silenced by Father's command.

"Status report." 

"Ahmar... Ahmar sacrificed himself for me. They took him."

Ahmar promised to keep me safe. When he makes a promise, nothing will stop him from following through. Even though now I am left to pick up the pieces of what he has left behind.


	14. Promises Made, Promises Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason promised he would keep Damian safe.   
> Damian promised he would get Ahmar back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter. Jason has an unhealthy amount of snark and I don't think that it has shown itself quite enough yet. Hopefully this rectifies that at least partially.
> 
> I can't believe that Christmas break is almost upon us.  
> *crazy dancing*   
> No homework!

-Jason-

Ah, the joys of waking up strapped to a table. See, this is what Kori's leaving me to wake up on a couch had stolen from me. The restraints cover my forehead, chest, arms, hips, and legs. 

I'm pretty sure that I thought this earlier, but it deserves to be repeated. I really wish Ra's would start underestimating me. I take a few calming breaths, willing my heart rate to go down. I continue to take stock of my surroundings, not pleased with them.

I've been changed into league trainee gear, my weapons gone and all of my clothes designed to put me at a disadvantage.

The restraints are made of a mix of leather and chain, too strong to be cut through and too flexible to be broken or lock picked.

Oh, wait. 

I need to amend my earlier statement. I'm not strapped to a table. I'm strapped to some sort of medical gurney that had me tilted into an upright position.

This just keeps getting better. 

I'm surrounded by league assassins. 

Original, as Ra's often is.

I decide to lull them with the dulcet sounds of my voice.

"Wow, way to make a guy feel special. Is there a person I can voice my compliments to...?" I trailed off, wanting to tilt my head, but stopped by the leather and chain strap across my forehead.

Oh my God... I just realized. They tied me up with leather and chains...

"Gosh, this getup sure is kinky. I'm sorry to say I'm not really in the mood, but maybe some other time." I wink, thanking Ra's lack of eyelid restraints.

One of the ninja has the modesty to look uncomfortable at my insinuations, but the rest just look annoyed. I hear whispers and strain my ears attempting to understand what they want with me.

"I told you we should gag him!" I chuckled slightly. So nice for your efforts to be recognized, after all.

"The Demon's Head wishes to speak with him. We can't gag him if he wants a conversation." Oh. Great. Ra's is probably going to try to torture me for info on Damian or just defying him.

He's petty like that.

The ninja miss out on more of my comedic gold because a door opens to reveal a seemingly pissed off Ra's al Ghul. Though that might just be his face.

"Hey Ra's! How's it been? I haven't seen you in months?" Ra's' frown deepens, making my smile widen.

"I see your time away has not yet fixed your lack of respect."

"I really don't think that should come as a surprise. I thought you were smarter." I laugh as a slight flush reaches his face, anger becoming more obvious.

Evidently that wasn't a good idea, because suddenly I found it difficult to breath. 

A leather band was being pulled against my throat from behind.

"I should not have indulged your habit earlier. That was my error, however, I think that you should have plenty of time to learn proper manners now that you have returned." I smirk, even with the pressure against my windpipe, knowing that Ra's 'indulging' my behavior just meant he didn't know how to make me stop.

When the pressure is released I let out the breath that had been clamoring to escape and draw in another. I try to turn my head to glare at whichever fucker decided it would be a good idea to try and choke me out.

"Look at me boy." I transfer my glare to the very deserving bastard in front of me. 

"What? Too scared to get on the bad side of the ' _detective_ '?"

"You think that I wanted Damian?" Ra's smirks, his evil face so very punch-able in this moment. "I don't need an heir to deal with the Justice League. I need _insurance_."

The blood in my veins turns to ice.

I thought that we were past this.

"It's a bit late to try and figure it out, isn't it?"

"That may be, but you are still mine. Whether you like it or not." I pulled my lips back in a snarl, baring my teeth.

"I'm no one's."

"Then I have no one to fear."

And with that he leaves me to the impartial hands of scientists who don't care if it stings.

It doesn't matter anyways, nothing they can do to me will hurt more than the fact that what he said is true.

-Talia-

I get off the phone with Mary, the sweet young girl who works in the office with Jason. 

She's quite concerned that he hasn't shown up to work in the past few weeks. I had assured her that he was fine. She had said that even though he had been submitting his work and the papers he had to fill, she was concerned that he was working too hard, or that he wouldn't take care of himself the way he should.

The loyalty is astounding. I would say that she is naive to put her trust in Jason so easily, but she is not the only one. He exudes a soft sense of security, despite his hardened outer shell. Every person in that building loves him in some way. In fact, if I was not certain that Mary had no interest in men I would have been concerned she was going to attempt to seduce him.

It would not be the first time.

Luckily Jason's obliviousness in those circumstances made it easy to dissuade them from attempting such ill advised endeavors. 

If his obliviousness hadn't been due to some deep-seated self loathing it would almost be funny. As it was though, it was almost sad. He refused to let himself see that he was more than a weapon. More than _soldier_. As much as I love my beloved, he can be incredibly blind when it comes to emotion. 

Jason's ability with people, paired with his tactical and strategy sense, and overall intelligence made him a force to be reckoned with. That didn't even extend to the extensive training that made him the warrior of nearly peerless skill.

Thinking of his protectiveness of Damian never fails to fill my heart with pride.

Both of my children have forged themselves out of the hardship that life has thrust upon them.

The boys are so similar, yet so very different. Damian preferring to make a direct insult when Jason will dance around a person with words, making them think a compliment isn't a thinly veiled assault. 

I'm shocked out of my reverie by the sharp ringing of my dial tone. I check the number, recognizing it as Bruce's. My heart sinks, Bruce wouldn't call unless if there had been some terrible occurrence.

"Hello?"

"Talia. Where is Hood." The voice that comes over the line is harsh, guttural. 

Not Bruce, but Batman.

"What do you mean where is Hood? I'm not even in the United States!"

"You sent Ahmar to watch over Damian. Ahmar took Damian and he has not contacted us since."

"And Damian?"

"He has been retrieved."

"Let me speak with him."

"No." I take a deep breath and make my next words slow and deliberate.

"Beloved. If you do not let me speak to my son, I will be at your door within the day with lawyers." A growl is all that makes its way over the line, but Damian's voice soon replaces it.

"Mother! Grandfather has Ahmar!" My fingers go numb, my breathing nearly stopping.

"What? How?"

"He took me to a safe house and locked me inside. I saw the confrontation on the roof of a nearby building. Ahmar would have won, but..."

"But what Habibi?" His hesitance gives me pause.

What has Father done?

"But then the lead assassin took out a crowbar." I cursed, not caring if anyone heard.

Damn Ra's. 

Damn his quest for immortality. 

"Damian. I want you to stay in Gotham. I will deal with him."

"Mother... Why would grandfather take Ahmar? I thought they hated each other?"

"Habibi... Your brother... Is a very interesting case. Ra's thinks that he may hold the key to returning from the grave."

"What? Why?"

"Because Ahmar has done it before. I cannot speak for him, it is not my story to tell, but perhaps one day he will tell you of his first life... I must go. 'Iinaa ahbk."

Ra's has taken my son.

If he has not prepared for war, then he does not deserve to survive it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Iinaa ahbk- 'I love you' in Arabic.


	15. A Mother's Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia brings a war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays

-Bruce-

Ra's' lack of interest in Damian is concerning. Ahmar fought well, from what I saw off of the cameras Oracle was able to turn his way he was only defeated because of a trigger that was used against him. 

Ra's had planned for him. They weren't there for Damian, if they had been they would have tried to enter the safe house that he was inside.

I'm loath to admit it, but the safe house's defenses were impressive. The sheer amount of traps that had been employed to keep Damian safe would have stopped most, not to mention the skill with which they had been set up. It had taken Oracle, Nightwing, Black Bat, Spoiler, Arsenal, and I the better part of 2 hours to fully disarm the defenses. 

How Damian hadn't set them off in his attempts to exit the premises was beyond me.

By the time that we had gotten to Damian he was near inconsolable. Only the promise to call Talia had made him sit still and not go charging off to retrieve Hood himself. Unfortunately, the call to Talia did not help him. I had recorded it, hoping to garner more information on the ever mysterious vigilante.

So far, the information we've amassed shows that he was a young child from Gotham who came back from the dead. He was found by the league of assassins at the age of 13. Then he was trained to the point of perfection for 6 to 7 years while holding up a persona as an assassin named Red Mask. Then he left to become the Red Hood, killing criminals.

It paints a strange picture. He is reportedly protective of Damian, which was affirmed when he used himself as bait to protect him. 

Argumentative. 

Dangerous.

Selfless.

Apparently undead.

A recipe for disaster. 

Damian is on the sparring mats, throwing himself into the all consuming task of fighting Cassandra. She took one look at him after the call and asked him to spar.

I don't know what I would do without her. Stephanie is helping Tim. With what I don't know. Harper and Starfire left. They had said something about contacting Harper's old flame Cheshire to get intel on where Ra's might have had his assassins bring Hood.

That leaves Dick and I to go over everything we know about him and theorize about his identity.

"Young." Dick said, making sure that I entered the proper information into my file.

"Volatile."

"Hurt."

"At this point? Unlikely." Dick bristled.

"Not just physically. He's covered in scars. Roy mentioned it earlier. Besides, Ra's apparently hates the kid. Something about a disrespectful attitude. Though honestly, if Ra's wanted an obedient servant he should stop trying to recruit people from Gotham." I grunted, editing the file to include potential PTSD in the mental conditions column. "So... Have you thought about adopting him?" I blinked. 

"No. Should I?" Now that I think about it... That wouldn't be the worst thing that I could do. He definitely needed a reassessment of morality, but beyond that he had potential. Not to mention that he no doubt need emotional support in his life.

"I mean... Damian already thinks of him as family... He's probably going to face some legal repercussions of being a shadow thus far."

"Talia said he died."

"What?! Damian didn't tell me that!"

"He didn't know. That's why Ra's took him. He wants to figure out how he did it."

"Huh... So, legally dead assassin with mad skills and a heart of gold... Wait. does he have family in Gotham?" My fingers slowed over the keyboard. He would have been a child when he died. His parents likely don't even know he's alive. 

"That should likely be our among first lines of questioning." Dick nodded, seeming distracted by the idea that Hood might have family.

"So. What's the plan?"

"We find out who he is. Look at death certificates for male children anywhere from the age of 10 to 13. Take from 12 to 8 years ago and narrow down from there. He's from Gotham, and has a loyalty to the city. He likely lost his life within the city." Dick nodded, running off to grab his work computer. 

We worked together in general silence for multiple hours, our focus almost entirely on the screens that carried the gruesome tales of children dying all across Gotham. 

It had been about 5 hours since Talia's call when the first notification went off. I looked up, worried that Arkham was having a breakout. 

I was surprised to see that it was a report of multiple explosions around major cities and even in rural areas that one would find unassuming. It was only when reports continued to flow in that I recognized that all of the locations were league bases. 

Talia was going after Ra's. 

-Talia-

I had my operatives all prepare their assaults to be ready in 6 hours. They were ready to go in 5. 

League bases were set alight all over the world, the damage certainly more than the Justice League had been able to threaten, let alone deal out. Ra's had likely taken Jason to his base in Rhode Island, so that is where I went. I entered the compound as smoke filled the air. Fires raged, left from the explosions used to destroy the majority of Ra's' forces. My sword sliced through a few assassins that were foolish enough to engage me. 

I walked briskly through the corridors of the compound. When I reached the labs I knew that my instincts had been correct. 

Jason was strapped to a medical gurney, scientists surrounding him as they attempted to understand the secrets that his body holds.

Blood was dripping onto the ground, originating from my son. Thin tendrils of green bled through my vision as I killed every single scientist and lab assistant. 

Examining Jason revealed that his eyes were staring off into space, likely retreating into his mind to get away from the pain that was being inflicted on his body. The state of his body was less than desirable, blood covering him like a second skin. Luckily he had no immediately pressing injuries. 

I cut his bonds away, noticing that there were no marks from him thrashing. I frowned as he didn't realize that I had released him.

After a few moments he finally seemed to come back into himself enough to notice me.

"Talia?" I smiled reassuringly, pulling him up from the slab.

"Habibi. I see that you have once again taken my requests to an unhealthy extreme."

"Hey. That wasn't my fault." The answer was weaker than I would have liked, but I smiled indulgently and gave him a sword. He was wearing training pants, and he likely had been in a training shirt before they decided to dissect him. I barely wrestled the green into submission before helping Jason to his feet.

His face contorted in discomfort as he moved, but he seemed to be able to function without assistance. We moved back towards the entrance that my agents had created, cutting down any opposition that attempted to halt our progress. 

It was as we reached the blast radius that had created the opening that I heard him.

"Daughter."

"Ra's." His face morphed into an ugly visage of anger and disgust.

"You ought to know respect. You have been spending too much time with your pet." I forced myself to remain relaxed even as I bristled on the inside.

"You stopped deserving my respect when you attacked one of my sons. Family does not attack family."

"Daughter. Return him."

"No." Jason shifted next to me, taking a supporting stance, recognizing that he was in no place to fight Ra's himself.

Ra's and I began to circle each other. Jason leaning against a wall of collapsed rubble for support as his injuries took their toll.

My sire and I came together in a flurry of flashing steel and flesh. We danced around each other, slashing and stabbing at each other with a series of strikes, feints, and parrys.

The exchanges were fast and complex, both of us showing that we were evenly matched. 

"You cannot beat me Daughter. You do not possess the strength." I did not grant him a response, instead slicing open his bicep with a neat slash, claiming first blood.

The fight continued, both of us tiring as we beat upon the other's defenses. It was only when Jason gathered himself up to step in that the fight truly fell in our favor. 

He was unable to do much more than defend from blows, but he took some of the pressure off of me, which in turn allowed me more room to attack Ra's.

It ended with a simple slash to his carotid that his sword was too slow to block. 

It ended with a spray of blood.

It ended with a slump of flesh onto the ground as he lost the bit of soul he still had.

It ended with me piercing his empty husk through what should have held his heart, but instead simply had an organ that pumped blood.

It ended with Jason and I free.

I caught Jason as his legs gave out. His wounds nothing serious, but paired with the fight he no doubt needed at least a week of rest.

It was only after I got him situated on the jet that I realized that it wouldn't be safe for him to stay with me to recover. I now have the league to run, and usurpers will attempt to overthrow me. 

His teammates no doubt mean well, but they are ill equipped to keep him resting. Which leaves one option. Loath as I am to admit it, but my beloved's home is the best place for him currently.

Now to get him there.


	16. Recovery in an Unsafe Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian feels guilty. Jason feels cornered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so I added a little backstory to why Damian might have been so standoffish towards his family when he came to Gotham.   
> If you haven't noticed yet, I enjoy psychoanalysis and the Bat-family is filled with material to work with. A lot of my stories will have that at the center.  
> Also, for questions of Jason's ethnicity and the cultures he grew up with: His father is of European/Chinese descent. His mom (Sheila) is European.   
> He learned Spanish from Catherine along with Russian, Italian, and Mandarin from his time on the streets. (There are gangs in Gotham with roots in those cultures.)

-Damian-

When the jet lowered into the cave I was exhausted. I had been sparring with Cain for the past few hours before finally being dragged up into the manor to rest by Pennyworth. It had been almost 24 hours since grandfather got Ahmar when Mother called and asked Father to look after him while he healed.

It surprised me that Mother would come here.

I don't think that Ahmar would like to know that she did. 

When Ahmar had learned that I would be going to live with my father he had not reacted well. He had gotten into a shouting match with Mother, only standing down when she told him that it was to protect me from grandfather. He had taken me to his quarters. I had never entered them before, only standing at the threshold to see him. 

Ahmar had sat me down and asked me to never to become Robin, or at least not underestimate the villains in the horrid city that I would one day inherit. I had laughed him off, but when I looked around he room I noticed his decor.

He had photos of Batman and Robin. News articles and sightings of the dynamic duo hung on the walls. Early ones had knife slashes through them. 

Now that I think about it, it should have been obvious that Ahmar was from Gotham. No one would have had such strong feelings on vigilantes from a city that they weren't invested in.

Drake's face was in tatters when I looked at the earlier pictures, as were the photos of Batman, though that lasted longer than his apparent enmity towards Drake.

There were a few pictures of Grayson, but no wounds had been inflicted upon them. 

Maybe that had affected my opinions of them, but Father didn't need to know about those. He would think that Ahmar was one of the foolish psychopaths that he fights and Ahmar is anything but foolish.

He was one of my best teachers. He taught me how to curse in multiple languages, along with what the curses meant as well. Mother was less than pleased with him, but he made the argument that he had known them, and if I was going to be insulted it was important for me to know what they were saying.

He taught me the arts of blending into a crowd, reading a person to see if they had ulterior motives, combative maneuvers, culture, and languages. His knowledge of languages was enviable. Learning English became simpler, not to mention Spanish, Russian, and Mandarin. 

I had other teachers, but none were as forgiving when it came to failure. Nor were they fun to be around. 

My favorite subject that he taught was Spanish. He told me that he had learned what he knew of the language from his mother and stories that came with it, though few and far between, were always worth listening to.

Ahmar may treat me as a child, a bit patronizing and lacking in any form of respect, but he had earned my trust. He fought with more skill than almost all of grandfather's agents and he had proved that he was more than just a weapon to be used against an opponent. 

I had often heard that the day that Ahmar fought Lady Shiva, would be the day Mother lost her favorite bodyguard. 

They were not referring to Ahmar. 

I do not know if that is what would truly happen, but one can only be surrounded by rumors for so long without believing them just a little bit.

When I had entered Gotham I had come with greater trepidation than I had anticipated. If Ahmar said that Gotham was dangerous... It was dangerous.

To be honest... I'm glad he warned me. The terrible things done by the ordinary criminals alone makes it obvious why grandfather would like to simply raze the city and start over.

As the jet lowered into the cave I noted a distinct lack of dramatic posturing. 

Odd. 

Most members of the league had an affinity towards the dramatic. A leaning that came with the territory of being an assassin I suppose.

When the engines turned off and the ramp descended. 

Father was standing with Grayson, both of them seeming to know what to expect. Mother walked down the ramp, Ahmar's arm slung over her shoulder as he limped along with her assistance. She led him to the med-bay where Pennyworth seemed to be ready for him.

I follow loosely, not wishing to get in the way, but also needing to see the damage that was wrought upon my brother.

Every scratch would be returned to my grandfather tenfold.

Ahmar hobbled his way to the medical bed, he did not seem to be suffering from any leg wounds, merely exhausted. 

Grayson helped him up onto the cot where Pennyworth would begin his examination.

"I trust that you will not remove his mask while he is in your care." Mother spoke, quiet yet forceful. 

"If you would simply tell us who he is that would be unnecessary."

"It is not my place. Ahmar will tell you if he is ready. Do not break our trust. He has expressed his wish to remain anonymous. I ask that you honor his request and not do anything to unveil his identity." I could almost hear Father's teeth grinding together, but I could see that he wanted to observe Ahmar's behavior.

"So long as he does not harm any of my family he should be allowed to maintain his secret identity." It almost sounded as though Father had been stabbed, the tightness in his voice revealing the difficulty he was having with saying those words.

It looked as though Father would have continued to speak with Mother had he not caught sight of Ahmar's now bare chest.

It was coated with a thin film of blood. Lacerations seemed to have been dug into his skin, seeming to be more torturous than scientific. Bruising wrapped around his ribs, back, and neck. None of that seemed to what had caught Father's eye though. 

I have always known that Ahmar was scarred, he didn't show them off like other members of the league often did, but if he told you a story from behind a scar you listened. I had learned that he was once stabbed in a back alley over an argument about whether chilidogs or ramen was a better comfort food. 

He claimed that the fact that the opposing party had to resort to violence to prove their point simply ensured his victory in that debate.

I'm not sure whether or not he was joking.

Grayson sucked in a sharp breath, reaching out and hovering his fingers about an inch above the large autopsy scar on his chest. I had always thought it an odd scar to have, but it made sense now. Lots of things make sense now.

My eyes were drawn to the scars on his back. 

There had been scars there when I had first met him, but they were noticeably deeper now. 

Whenever grandfather had come near me Ahmar would make a snide comment or disrespect his authority. He would be strung up by his wrists and whipped for insubordination. I only ever witnessed it once, but it is not something I can ever imagine seeking out willingly. 

"What happened?" Grayson's voice asked tremulously.

"I died. Some asshole wanted to know what happened even though they knew who did it. So I got a pretty, new trophy." I looked at him sharply, noticing now that he was swaying where he was sitting up. Ahmar would not have spoken of such things had he been in his right mind.

Pennyworth seemed to come to the same conclusion as I did, gently having him lay back on the medical cot.

"If there is anything you should require don't be afraid to ask." He then shooed Grayson and I out of the area.

Akhi would be having plenty questions once he woke.

-Jason-

Ra's' people hadn't really dug into me when Talia got there, but apparently fighting with blood loss, as well as bruised organs and cracked ribs, will take quite a bit out of you.

The relief that filled me when Talia gutted the bastard was palpable and I could tell that she felt it too. However, when she told me that because he was dead I had to go recover in the batcave I quickly regretted feeling that way and wished Ra's was still alive so I could punch him in the nuts for making it necessary. 

Entering the cave the first time had been stressful, but not debilitating. Unfortunately, this time I was dealing with blood loss, exhaustion, and hunger. Bruce actually agreed to letting me stay masked, which I was not expecting, but when I took off my shirt to let Alfred examine my ribs the gasps reminded me of the fucked up reminders of my past mistakes.

I might have let a little bi too much slip, but I was barely keeping my eyes open at that point. 

When I woke up I was feeling better, but hungry. That was fixed by a quick trip to the kitchen where Alfred made me a quick breakfast. 

I tried not to simply break down and give the man a hug. 

I wanted to hug him like I was tiny again, cry until I couldn't anymore and then go to the library and read Shakespeare with him. I wanted to help him in the kitchen and maybe even just follow him around the manor like I used to, helping out where I could.

That can't happen though. 

The minute they know that it's me they'll send me out on my ass. As much as I don't want to be here, it's still a compromise I'm willing to make. Just being around them makes everything a little easier. 

Dick cornered me in the living room. I had been going to the library, but apparently now I'm being accosted by an overbearing asshole whose personality had seen a complete overhaul since I knew him.

"Hey. So, about last night..."

"What about it?"

"What you said about the autopsy scar... What happened?" He looked tremendously uncomfortable, clearly not wanting to bring up triggers, but also needing to fuel his curiosity.

"You've seen Gotham. There are enough psychos that you can choose from. Take your pick."

"Um, yeah. Sorry, that was really insensitive of me. So what do you want to do?" I blinked, not quite sure how to take this version of Dick.

Was a trained assassin really better company than a street rat?

"Um... Would you like to spar?" I asked hesitantly, sort of wanting to know if I could keep up with him now, but also being afraid of the answer being no.

Dick perked up and nodded, heading down to the cave. I followed, noting the differences in the decor and layout, noting how much had changed since my death.

We were walking down the stairs to the manor when I saw it.

I froze for a moment, my mind not functioning as it recognized that piece of horror.

Dick turned, noticing my halt.

"Everything OK?" I ignored him, wandering over to the case. It held my suit. The suit I died in. 

My blood still tainted the fabric, the tears still visible despite Alfred's needlework being as flawless as always.

And the crowning achievement was the plaque that read: _Jason Todd A Good Soldier._

As I stared at the symbol of my failure, the proof that no one cared, I felt something at the back of my mind. 

Something I hadn't felt in over 2 years.

Green.

Lazarus Green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Akhi- my brother (in Arabic)


	17. Information Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick learns some things. Tim puts some clues together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter.

-Dick-

When Hood asked to spar I was concerned. He had injuries that he really shouldn't aggravate, but he seemed so shy when he asked, almost like he was scared that I wouldn't want to. It was such a childlike action that it tugged at my heart a little. This man was... well, not a man. Even though he was built like a house, with his height and obvious musculature he was still young, younger than Cass and barely older than Tim. 

I couldn't say no, instead leading him down to the batcave. 

He startled slightly, like he couldn't believe I was actually willing to spar with him, and followed. 

As we got down into the cave I realized that he had stopped. His head was turned towards the case. My breath caught in my throat. I try not to look at it very often, I'm not Bruce.

"Everything OK?" Hood didn't respond, simply going over to the case. He was obviously tense. The tension that he held in his body exponentially increased. He reached out to trace the letters of the plaque as another reached up to his helmet.

The helmet disconnected, revealing a secondary mask underneath.

His face _was_ young. He had lightly tanned skin dotted with freckles, but my mind only gave him a cursory glance, because he looked angry, and a faint green light was coming from where it was trapped behind his mask.

Lazarus.

That might pose a problem. I'll make sure to mention it to Bruce, but for now I need to deal with this.

" _A Good Soldier._ Gosh that almost makes me want to be Robin."

"It's pretty bad..."

"It's not just bad. It's fucking awful. That was a child, barely older than Damian, and the best epitaph you could come up with was a goddamn insult."

"I... I don't think it's an insult. He gave his life to protect people. That's the mission."

"Yeah. Replaceable. Families are such bullshit anyways, right?"

"No. No one will ever replace Jason." Hood snorts. 

"Yeah. Seems like it."

"Look. I know that it may seem like Tim took his place, or Damian after him, but neither of them did. Jason... Jason's dead. I would like to think that he would want us to be happy." 

Some of the green glow faded from his skin, the pit apparently easing.

"The emotional constipation is striking." I huff out a laugh.

"Yeah. The wording leaves a lot to be desired... Did you know him?" Hood startled, slightly turning towards me. 

"What?"

"Did you know him? He spent a lot of time around Crime Alley. That is where you grew up, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. I knew him."

"Did he save you?" Hood seemed to be amused.

"I guess you could say that."

"What's the story? I'm afraid I didn't know as much about him as I should have."

"Drug dealer. He beat him away from my mom." I would have bet my heart stuttered.

"Your mom?"

"Yeah."

"Does she... Does your family know you're back?" Hood turned to face me, his back now towards the case.

"You make it sound like I was off on vacation. And no, they doesn't know." I feel like crying. If Jay were back...

"Why not?"

"I'm more useful to them dead." That... that is both really confusing and sad.

"What?" Hood just sighed.

"I'm... I'm not welcome. It's better if they just think that the kid they lost is still lost and not an assassin."

"You don't have to be an assassin..."

"But I am one. Maybe I'm not an assassin forever. Maybe one day I stop killing. Today's not that day. There's still too many people who can't be caught."

"That doesn't make it right."

"Right is subjective. It is based on too much opinion and too little fact."

"The fact that they're criminals doesn't mean that they deserve to be killed."

"Death isn't that bad. It's what they take from the living that is important." Hood likely would have continued had Damian not come down at that moment.

"Why are we looking at the failed Robin's suit?" 

"Damian! You can't call Jason that! He's your brother!"

"Don't lie to yourselves. Family doesn't label siblings or children soldiers when they're murdered." With that Hood disappeared. Seeming to head up to the manor, leaving Damian looking confused at Hood's cold tone.

"What did I say?" I sighed.

"Damian... Hood is around how old Jason would have been. At one point Jason saved Hood." Damian's eyes widened, his gaze shifting reverently to the tattered suit.

"Ahmar has never required saving..."

"Damian. Jason... Jason wasn't a failed Robin. He was maybe the best Robin. He gave his life fighting for others."

"Father... Father made it sound like he died in attempt to satisfy his pride." I resist the urge to rush off to beat Bruce black and blue.

"Bruce is wrong sometimes. Jason was reckless, but he wasn't stupid. I may not have been the best brother to him, but even I could see that he wasn't just some dumb kid."

"Then why does Father say he didn't listen."

"Damian... None of us have ever listened. Jason's just the first one to have to pay the price for that."

-Tim-

Hood being in the manor to recover was not expected.

I would have thought Bruce would have insisted that he unmask himself. 

The information that we've amassed about Hood paints a unique picture. Died before he was even 13. Murdered, if the autopsy scar proves anything.

I had looked for boys with black hair who had been murdered. It was depressing just how large of a list it was, but his connection to Crime Alley was a much larger clue. That slimmed down the list by quite a bit. 

In fact. I found one name on that list that made more sense than all of the others combined.

Jason Peter Todd. 

He was a Crime Alley native, trained from a young age before being killed by the Joker. 

Known for his passionate defense of the vulnerable and aggressive way of dealing with criminals. 

However, if he had been returned from the grave there is almost no way that Bruce didn't see some sort of sign that he came back.

Ra's would have been interested in having one of Bruce's sons as his agent, not to mention that if he returned from the dead he would have gotten his attention to begin with.

Jason isn't a meta, but he is skilled. He also is extremely protective of children. 

Honestly, the theory of the Red Hood being Jason Todd is my most plausible theory. 

The next best fit is a boy named Jeremy Walker, and he didn't have any prior training to his drowning in the sewers.

If Hood is Jason... Well. I want to be right. But if I'm wrong... I can't give that sort of false hope to Bruce. 

This will require more observation.


	18. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason wants to run. Alfred sees a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you for your comments. I love writing this story for all of you.  
> Warning for self hate.   
> Jason really struggles with self esteem in this chapter. It doesn't help that I just watched the end of the Mandalorian season 2 and it made me feel emo.  
> Also, as a little fun fact: When I'm writing this I listen to the Mandalorian soundtrack. I've found it's great for focus.

-Jason-

My conversation with Dick did not go as expected.

I mean, the argument about morals was, but the rest... I hadn't expected him to... _care_ as much as he did.

He's right. I do want them to be happy. I guess that's why they can't ever know who I am. 

No matter how much it hurts to be called the _failed Robin_ by my little brother... He's not wrong.

I failed because I stupidly trusted someone who never should have been trusted. I failed because I didn't listen to Bruce's orders. I failed because I didn't disarm the bomb. I failed because I couldn't even save Sheila. I failed because I died. I failed because when I came back I came back _wrong._ I failed because I killed. I failed because I... because I don't regret killing.

The manor is filled with warm light, the evening darkness barely showing among the lamps. I wander to the library, deciding to spend my time noting the new additions and changes to the organization. It was late by the time I heard someone enter the safe haven that was the library.

Damian's light footsteps snuck up next to me.

"I apologize." I started. 

Had they already found out who I was? 

"You couldn't have known."

"I owe him a debt. I should not have said such things about someone who saved you." I relaxed slightly, this was still about the story I told Dick.

"It doesn't matter."

"How can you say that? He died before you could pay back the debt!"

"No, I paid him back." Damian just looked at me with satisfaction, as though he had somehow been torn apart by the fear that Red _fucking_ Mask owed a child.

"Is his death the reason you dislike Father?" I huffed a laugh.

"Sort of."

"Oh... It's not Father's fault."

"I know. It's... It's not Bruce's fault." I had been tempted to say that it was my fault, but Damian doesn't need the burden of his older brother being an undead failure.

"Mother... Mother said I should ask you about your previous life." I smile, letting the melancholic feeling wash over me.

"Maybe at a safe house." Damian looked up at me sharply, his gaze a carbon copy of Bruce's warning look.

"You are not permitted to leave. You must stay here to recover."

"For another day or 2 maybe. Then I will tell you about my past life. I promise." 

"TT. I suppose that is acceptable. The Outlaws that are your companions have set up just outside of the city limits. They will likely wish to be alerted to your wishes for them."

"I don't control what they do. They just kind of stuck around after we saved Roy and I wasn't going to say no to a spaceship."

"You are an imbecile."

"Yeah, but I'm a muscly imbecile... Now, don't you have school?"

"TT. A frivolous center of miscreants who believe they are the world's future leaders when they are, in fact, quite mediocre."

"Well, yeah. But you get to learn while you're there."

"No. I don't. The teachers either have inaccurate information or they simply have surface level knowledge and nothing else." The chuckle escapes my throat against my will. 

"If you take your homework in here I can answer any questions you have. I may not have finished High School, but I did graduate college."

"Is that possible?"

"I got a GED. Your mom was pretty cool about me wanting to get a degree."

"What are your majors?"

"English Literature and Sociology." Damian nodded sagely, looking all of his years with his look of approval.

"Noble fields of study."

"Sure thing Baby Bat." I turn back to the books I was perusing. 

I'll never admit it to anyone, but the kid is cute. Even if his dad is a tool.

-Alfred-

The introduction of Ahmar to the manor was a quiet affair. 

Miss Stephanie, Master Tim, Master Bruce, and Miss Cassandra all preferring to observe from the side lines. Master Dick had been attempting to integrate himself into the routine that the boy obviously wished to stick to.

He had come to me for what would have been his breakfast. The lad was quiet and respectful. He seemed to be hesitant to remove his helmet around me. I had left to continue my daily duties, only to return to find that he had not only eaten everything, but also washed and dried the dishes with which he had eaten.

I had been amused. His politeness reminding me of another young man who had made quite a splash in the manor when he had been here.

I found that it was not the only similarities that Ahmar shared with him. 

Master Dick had been in the kitchen, which normally is a sign that a fire extinguisher is required, but he needed to express his feelings.

Ahmar had seen the case. 

That horrid case that Master Bruce forces himself to look at.

He had an... Interesting reaction. Apparently he had been saved by Master Jason at some point. It makes my heart just a bit lighter, knowing that even now Master Jason's life is not forgotten by the world.

Master Dick was upset about Master Bruce's inability to show that Master Jason was loved. 

I assured him that, while it was not wrong of him to be frustrated, it also was not something that could be fixed with a physical altercation or shouting match. We sat in the kitchen, sipping tea, as we shared stories about the boy whose life was so tragically short for the joy he brought.

When it was time for him to go out on patrol I decided to search the manor for our guest, hoping to learn more about the mysterious young man.

I found him in the library with a book on his lap. He sat in a large armchair as Master Damian sat nearby, crouched over a textbook that I doubt had been opened since he received it. The boy was asking about the nuances of a phrase in Spanish. 

Ahmar's voice rose and fell in an almost mesmerizing way as he explained a certain phrase that was commonly used in lower class homes in Spain, but not often acknowledged in the common language. 

Master Damian was looking at him with an expression of devotion and awe, drinking in the information that he otherwise likely would have deemed beneath him.

It was a startling shift. I would need to ask Ahmar for tips on how to deal with the young master. 

I cleared my throat. Loath as I was to interrupt the learning moment, Robin was required for patrol.

"Excuse me young masters. Master Damian, I'm afraid it is time to begin patrol." 

I believe that is the first time that I have ever seen a disappointed expression on Master Damian's face after hearing those words. Perhaps Ahmar should stay. I know that Master Bruce is considering adopting the boy, I would not voice dissension. He would be a welcome addition.

Master Damian strode out of the library, disappearing down to the cave. 

I walked around the high backed armchair, now seeing Ahmar. 

His nose was buried in a novel, I noted the domino mask that covered his eyes. I cocked a brow at the paranoia that would need to be in place for that to even be a concept, not to mention actually carried out. 

The amusement was buried within shock within moments.

"Master Jason?" The words came out as a whisper. 

His gaze snapped up, his eyes hidden, but gaze piercing.

"Um... Surprise?" 

I reach forward and seize him in a tight hug, relishing the warmth beneath the grown boy within my arms.

Decorum be damned.

"My dear boy..."

"Alfie... God... We really never can get anything past you?" I loosened by hold on him, instead gripping his shoulders, examining his face.

He had grown.

Dear Lord... He had grown. I feel tears pricking my eyes.

"Master Jason... How?" The stark relief he held in his face shuttered slightly.

"I... don't really know." I frowned. "Alfie... Can you _not_ tell the others? At least for now?" 

To deny a child his request after he returned... I'm not sure I could do it. 

"Master Jason... Master Bruce will be thrilled to learn you are back. Please, speak with him." Master Jason shook his head quickly, almost desperately, and suddenly he's a little boy again, begging not to have to get a flu shot.

" _Please_. I... I can't deal with that right now." My frown deepened. The reunion... It would have to wait. Master Jason has spent years away from us, alone. The least I can do is to be there for him now.

"Very well. But I do suggest that you come forward sooner rather than later... Until then I would very much like to hear what has happened since I saw you last." I finally remove my hands from his shoulders, moving to sit in the chair opposite his.

"I talked with Damian." I lifted a brow and Master Jason just smirked sheepishly. "Well... I became an assassin..." 

It would be the beginning of a long night, but I got to see the young man that had grown from a tiny 13 year old who I thought I would never get to see again.

As nights go... That's not bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The number of chapters may change as I go, but right now that is how many I think it will take.


	19. Backstory and Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian learns about Jason's past. Tim has a meeting with his soon to be business partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the reveals begin.   
> Happy New Year.   
> 2020... I wish we could say we will miss you.

-Damian-

The days that followed Ahmar's entrance to our lives were surprisingly calm. After seeing the case Ahmar was rarely seen in the cave, but I heard from Grayson that he sparred with him.

Even wounded Ahmar is a force to be reckoned with, and if the bruises on Grayson are to be believed, he won the match. Grayson might have been holding back, but I'm not sure. It seemed like he would have had to fight back if he wanted a chance to evade many of the attacks Ahmar no doubt used.

Father and Grayson's efforts to locate Ahmar's family have been futile. 

I'm not sure whether or not I want them to found. Ahmar doubtlessly could have found them had he wished, but if he doesn't... He is still my brother, even if his family is deplorable.

After 3 days of tense silence within the manor he was finally cleared to leave. The largest point of concern had been his bruised lung which had been given when he was hit with the crowbar. The blood loss was just a matter of time to fix itself. He wouldn't be back to being fully functional for another week, but it was clear that he was anxious to get back to work.

He disappeared for about a week, during which time the Red Hood's gang increased activity, Grayson was informed by Harper that he had given them his number so that if there were jobs they wanted help with he could be reached, and Red Hood's patrols had returned full force.

Drake had reported seeing him talking with one of the prostitutes on the edge of the Bowery. He had been discussing protections for them that he could guarantee if they reported threats to him.

Drake also claimed that he had been flustered when on of the prostitutes began flirting, but I believe him to be biased. Ahmar would never be _flustered_. He's far too professional for that.

Anyway. 

Ahmar has not contacted me since he left. I assume this is because he wishes to meet me on his own terms, but I must admit that I am concerned that he has pushed himself too far, too quickly.

Pennyworth had been watching every report of Ahmar like a hawk, his disapproval of his lack of self care shining past his distaste of his methods.

It does not help my worries that he seems to have returned to his ways as crime lord and his feud with Black Mask is in full swing.

Brown saw his last excursion, which included a bazooka into his office building, and broke down into hysterics. Father was going for his Joker Anti-Venom when she finally calmed down enough to wipe the tears that had leaked from her eyes.

It was only as I was patrolling that I realized that he was likely waiting for me go to him. I turned off my comm and headed to Crime Alley. 

I stood on top of one of the buildings, waiting for Ahmar to appear. My tracker was still active, I did not want to worry the others, but the comm unit would likely be filled with questions for me after I returned to active patrol.

"I was wondering when you would show up." I spun around, recognizing the voice modulation but surprised he could sneak up on me.

"Ahmar."

"Hood when I'm out in the suit." I nodded and he sighed, sitting on the edge of the building. "So what do you want to know?" The answer was obvious, his distaste for Father was concerning. Father is a hero.

"Why do dislike Father?"

"That is a very long story."

"I would like to hear it."

"Yeah... yeah. OK, first rule. Nothing I tell you can make its way to Bat ears. Got it?" I nodded vigorously. "K... God, where to start?"

"The beginning is likely a good place." Hood relaxed slightly, chuckling, only to sigh as he began his speech.

"Smart ass. So. My dad was an abusive piece of shit who worked with the gangs in Gotham, mostly Two Face. My mom, well, my step mom, was a druggie. Long story short, both ended up dead. I was around 8 at the time. I lived on the streets for about 2 years when I found a car and decided to jack its tires. Problem was it belonged to Batman." I tensed, worried that this would lead to a physical altercation, even though he was a child, before I realized something.

"The Batmobile is quite distinctive. How did you not recognize it for what it was?" The laugh that came out of Hood's modulator was genuinely amused.

"Oh, I knew it was his car. I was just a stupid son of a bitch who thought that I could get away with it and cash in on some bullet proof shit." I frowned.

"That was foolish."

"Yeah, but I was 10, what are you gonna do?"

"Not attempt to rob Batman."

"See, this is why you're Robin and I..." His voice trailed off, but he began speaking before I could ask him what was the matter. "Anyways, I got caught after I had 3 of them off. I was taken to an orphanage that turned out to be a front for criminals. I helped Batman take them out... And he took me home." 

All of a sudden everything snapped into place.

"You... You're Jason Todd. You... You told Grayson..." The words escaped my mouth, much like the bile roiling my stomach wanted to.

"Yeah... I beat a dealer off once, so I guess I saved myself. Funny, huh."

"I... I called you a failed Robin."

"I mean... You're not wrong."

"Why...? Why didn't you go home? Father would be delighted."

"Dami... I'm not... I... I'm not what they lost. That kid was a starry eyed dreamer who thought that family was the ultimum achievement of humanity."

"Jason..." The name was foreign on my tongue as I spoke it.

"Dami, just, just leave it alone... Please." I nod slowly, honored that Jason would trust me with this information. 

"I have 2 more questions."

"Shoot."

"Why did you go after the Joker alone?" Jason sighed.

"I didn't."

"What? But Father..."

"B's wrong. I went to talk to Sheila cause she said he was gone. What's your second question?" He spoke quietly, almost as though he didn't want me to believe him. Like he wanted to be blamed.

"Did you really get stabbed in an argument over whether or not chili dogs were better than pizza?" The burst of laughter that erupted from Hood's body was worth wasting a question on such a frivolity.

"Yeah. I can show you the blood stain. It still hasn't been washed off of the fire escape." I leapt after him, grappling to across streets that he explained. 

Jason might not want to come back. But he is still my brother and so he is obligated by law to teach me things no one else will. 

Grayson told me that.

Maybe Jason will teach me how to summon the All-Blades. I would very much like that.

-Tim-

The meeting with Head Industries was a long time coming. For the past few months our negotiators had set up multiple minor partnerships, most of them boring and almost nothing noteworthy, but I felt that the steps would lead to better things in the future.

Honestly, with all of the uncertainty connected to the family currently, working for WE is almost refreshing.

My recovery from the Joker's beating had gone quite a ways... Oh God.

If Hood was Jason... He would have saved me from a death that was meant to copy his. 

He had willingly walked into an extremely triggering situation to save me.

My list of things to thank him for has grown exponentially since my theory took root in my mind. I had gone through records of graveyard disturbances, but nothing had ever been reported.

It was disappointing to say the least, but I took comfort in the fact that all other routes had no records among them either.

Walking to Mr. Head's office I heard the tail end of a conversation.

"I'm just saying that if we abbreviated like WE does we could be called HI pharmaceuticals. Yes, I'm sure I'm fine. Talia... Yeah. Iinaa ahbk." 

Seeing the formidable figure of Jason Head I realized something. I had met Hood out of a mask before.

And his name was _Jason._

The white streak had been dyed, but the strip was a slightly different shade from the rest of his hair. Likely a cheap spray on that he used when he went out as Mr. Head.

"Mr. Head."

"Mr. Drake."

"I suppose that signing these contracts first would be a step in the right direction."

"Of course." 

When we finally had finished all of the technical requirements I let my eyes wander his face, noting the similarities to the boy that had been tragically ripped from the suit I had once called mine.

"Thank you."

"For what? We both signed the contract, Mr. Drake." I smiled indulgently.

"I meant for saving me from the Joker. On the anniversary of your death no less." Suddenly the good natured mask shuttered.

"Who all knows?"

"Just me." His features relaxed slightly.

"Keep it that way, please? Alfred and Damian already know but I..."

"It's fine. I get it. Whenever you're ready they'll be happy to see you." A broken little laugh burst from his mouth.

"Sure Timbo. Now go home and develop all of your stalker pictures or whatever you do these days." I felt my face heat up as he smirked. 

"It's good to see you back, Jason."

"See you around replacement." I startled.

"No! I... I was never your replacement!" The smirk didn't waver, in fact it grew.

"It's a nickname Timberly. Besides, it suits you. Now get out of here before I need to call security." We exchanged a bit more banter before I actually left his office, but _I was right._

Jason Todd is alive.

_Robin_ is alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for Tim's part being so short. It was more of a plot bit and less of a long discussion moment though.


	20. Arrest Orders and Annoying Archers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Justice League discusses Red Mask/ Red Hood. Roy wants Jason to be his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Writes a tiny little chapter because she can't figure out how to make words for some reason.  
> Also me: Writes the biggest beginning note that I think I ever have...
> 
> I got to use my paltry knowledge of parliamentary procedure. :)   
> Also, Roy is a national treasure. I can totally ship Jay/Roy, so if there are any good ones you know of, hit me up.  
> However, I also love just their friendship... I'm confused. But any and all Jason and Roy interactions are welcome.

-Bruce-

The watchtower was filled with chatter. 

Arsenal's almost execution and now pairing up with a morally ambiguous team leaves quite a lot to discuss. Considering that Green Arrow and Black Canary are here shows that they will definitely be bringing that up. 

Our campaign against the league of assassins might not be necessary anymore due to Talia's intervention. Ra's will likely be stalled while he deals with the insurgencies within the league.

Once everyone had gathered Clark stood up and began the meeting. 

Topics ranged from common security to upgrades before finally reaching the interesting part.

"Our efforts to halt the progress of eco-terrorism from the league of assassin has... proven successful. The suggestion on the table is that we extract most of our operatives and turn to remote surveillance."

"Why don't we strike now? In a moment when they aren't planning something?" The Flash asked, multiple heroes around the table voiced their agreement.

"Because we have just received word that the league of assassins is no longer under the control of Ra's al Ghul." My head snapped to Superman. 

_Talia what did you do?_

"Then who's running the show?"

"From what we have gathered it seems to be Talia al Ghul. Some would argue that isn't an improvement, but she seems to be turning their resources to improvement rather than destruction." Silence filled the room, no one wanting to destroy the pipe dream that this surely was. "The next level of priority is investigating what caused the change. Talia has, up until now, been loyal to her father. It is not at all like her to have killed him."

The entire table erupts into questions, but my ears don't catch any of it.

Ra's is dead.

Talia killed Ra's.

I shouldn't feel relieved, but Damian is safe. Tim is safe. Cass is safe.

I wrangle my shock into a tight corner of my mind as the heroes surrounding me quiet. I decide to enlighten the rest of the group.

"Talia went after Ra's because he kidnapped her son." Everyone turned to me.

"Ra's kidnapped Robin?" The horror that came through Clark's voice was echoed in the faces of every single hero around the table.

"No, Talia has a second son. She adopted him after Ra's took him in at the age of 13. I don't know much about him, but he's roughly 19 currently. He goes by Red Mask internationally but calls himself the Red Hood in Gotham. We are currently attempting to break through the brainwashing and conditioning he endured." A few of the heroes nodded, but the vast majority looked unsettled by the information given.

"Why have we not heard of him up until this point?" Diana's voice broke through the uneasy muttering.

"We were unaware of his existence until he appeared publicly in Star City, killing the assassins that were sent after him to return him to Ra's. He then went on to join with Starfire and Arsenal to fight what we have learned was an immortal race of undead creatures before returning to Gotham to defend Robin at Talia's request. It was then that he was taken by the league. I was unaware of Talia's take over of the league."

Green Arrow and Black Canary have suddenly gained much more interest.

"Roy is with him?"

"From what I know, yes."

"Nevertheless, he is likely dangerous. I move that we have a psychological assessment of Red Mask here when we locate him." 

The movement passes and the meeting continues, leaving me to wonder just what we'll discover in our investigation.

-Roy-

The phone was ringing. 

And ringing.

And ringing. 

Seriously, how long did it take for a guy to answer his phone?

"Hullo?" The voice was thick with sleep. 

Well shit.

"Sorry, is this a bad time? I just want to talk." A grunt, followed by shuffling and what sounds like coffee being poured.

"Nah, I'm already up. What's goin' on?"

"Um... I want to talk?"

"We are. Is there a specific thing you want to discuss or is this a pointless filler?"

"Pointless filler?"

"Fair enough."

"So... Is there a place we could meet up to talk? I feel kind of weird making a friend over the phone." A startled laugh bursts through the speaker.

"Sure. I'm working a drug bust tomorrow night. Meet me on the roof of the apartment building on 23rd and 5th and we can begin bonding like best buds. I'm not offering a sleepover though. You have to reach level 3 friendship to unlock that."

"Level 3? Gosh, do I even want to know what level I need to be at to unlock the tragic backstory?"

"At least level 10, but that's if you catch me when I'm suffering from sleep deprivation or blood loss." 

"Deal. Now, do you prefer Thai or burgers? I need to know for research purposes."

"Both. Both is good." I laugh.

"Oh, we're definitely going to be friends."

"As long as you don't stab me when I say chili dogs are better than pizza."

"I can do that... But what is truly a masterpiece is when you put chili dogs _on_ pizza."

"I take back what I said. You're an abomination. We can't be friends." 

Oh yeah, this kid is definitely friend material. 

Now to convince him of that.


	21. The Joys of Toxin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear Toxin is a bitch.  
> Seriously Scarecrow, what made you think that it was a good idea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eyeballs feel like I used hot sauce for eye drops, but the new chapter is out.   
> As a note. Dick didn't know Jason all that well before he died, only ever really meeting him when he was in the Robin costume. Back then Jason hadn't even begun puberty, so Dick wouldn't recognize his face.

-Jason-

Roy and Kori had been throwing themselves into becoming my friends. 

This is not a problem. In fact, they had been extremely helpful with my recent take downs of a number of gun smuggling rings. 

The problem is that rumors have started circulating that the Red Hood has gone soft, which is both not true, and extremely annoying. 

Black Mask had apparently gotten wind of the false rumors. He had been hiring assassins left and right, trying to catch or kill me. None have succeeded, but it doesn't change that I'm tired and pissed off.

The helmet is my best friend, mostly because it keeps any and all clues to my identity locked down.

If Black Mask had any idea who I was I would immediately lose my ability to sleep soundly. Not that I have much of one, but it would get infinitely worse.

Naturally the only way to fix his ill advised attempts on my life is to hit him where it hurts. 

I'm trying to decide which that is, his balls or his wallet.

Both. 

Both is good.

Maybe if his wallet is stored in his underwear's dick pouch I can do both at the same time.

Ah, the wishes of convenience.

I was swinging through the streets, ready to drop a bullet in Black Mask's lap (preferably severing the tiny organ that could ensure that the Sionis never reproduces) when I heard the sounds of a fight.

Changing course mid swing, I reach one of the many abandoned apartment buildings in Crime Alley.

I take in the sight at the mouth of the alley.

Nightwing and Robin are working together to take down a group of thugs that seem to be carting lab materials back and forth from the truck parked a little ways away to the apartment building. The fight is wrapped up before I can ascertain who the thugs work for. The fight was impressive though.

I slow clap, gaining the attention of Dickwing and Demon Baby.

"Great show guys. Wing, I gotta say. You are getting old. Robin, a credit to the mantle as always." Damian's chest puffs up a little bit and Dick's excrima sticks lower slightly.

It's a matter of seconds before both of them are standing next to me on the roof.

"Hood. What brings you here?" 

"Ah, Dickiebird, you forget. This is _my_ territory. I get to ask the questions. So spill."

"Dr. Crane has escaped from Arkham yet again." Damian piped up from beside Dick.

"And no one told me? I'm hurt."

"We don't have a way of contacting you."

"You say that like you couldn't get Oracle to hack into my comm unit whenever you feel like it."

"I think you're overestimating my relationship with her."

"Nah, I'm just waiting for the day where you finally pop the question. Honestly, the sexual tension must be terrible. Robin, is it still enough to make you want to gouge out your eyes and eat them?"

"That is an oddly accurate assessment." 

"Hey!" The look of betrayal on Dick's face makes me wish I had Barb's eidetic memory.

"Moving on. Scarecrow's out and no one thought to tell me. Plus he's running around my territory without me knowing. Great. The night's finally starting to look interesting."

"TT. As if you weren't on your way to confront Black Mask."

"Oof. Your dad's tendency to stalk people is showing. I think it may be too late for you my friend." Damian ignored me, electing to swing away from me. I cackled, following him as Nightwing shook himself out of his indignant state.

Patrol wasn't boring after that. 

With the banter flying back and forth I was almost happy. 

Then we reached a warehouse. 

Because of course we did.

The warehouse was crawling with thugs. Robin and Nightwing called for back up, I simply stood, staring at the horribly built structure and wondering why anyone would use warehouses anymore.

"Batman will be here in 10 minutes." I nodded absentmindedly. "He wants to remind you that if you're working with us you can't kill." I sighed.

"Fine." Popping out the magazine for another, this one filled with rubber bullets, took mere seconds.

When the Bruce dropped down next to us I was relieved to be pulled from my mind.

The plan was laid out. 

We infiltrated the higher levels, knocking out thugs silently, before dropping down to where Scarecrow was examining the vials of his latest creation.

The fight was fast and dirty. Thugs flew as we ducked and dodged among them. My guns went off every once and a while, but I mainly stuck to hand to hand. 

It was only toward the end of the fight that I realized that Crane was trying to jab Damian with what is likely a lethal dose of his toxin.

I slammed into him, praying that my armor will protect me from the liquid shit he carries around.

I feel the needles prick my skin.

Of course. 

Fucking warehouses.

-Dick-

Seeing Hood out on patrol was a slightly unnerving experience. He was laughing and teasing us one minute, and the next he was making me regret ever putting on a cape.

He was a lot like Jason that way.

It must be a Crime Alley thing.

Seeing him in action was an amazing experience. I thought that him sparring against me while wounded was impressive, but he seems to just be one of those people who fight like they were born to. He reminds me a lot of Cass.

And isn't that a depressing thought.

My heart might just stop when I see him suddenly fly across the room, throwing himself between Robin and Scarecrow, who had somehow snuck up on him in the fray. 

He tackled the spindly doctor to the ground, only to begin twitching slightly on top of him. 

The fight was wrapped up quickly after that. Hood was pulled off of Scarecrow and Batman left to take him to Arkham, leaving Robin and I with a dangerous and panicking assassin.

We dragged him to the roof of a nearby building, pulling off his helmet to be met with a pale and shaking face. 

The secondary mask was ripped off by Damian, which revealed a young, and scared face.

Teal eyes with flashes of neon green stare up into the sky, unseeing.

After a few moments where we sat there, staring, Hood released a half-hearted cry of pain and curled up into a ball. He began twitching as though he was being struck by something.

I glanced at Damian, seeing his unease. 

"Robin. Secure a sample of the toxin and take it to the cave for analysis." He nodded after a moments hesitation and grappled off to run the errand.

I looked back at Hood and felt my heart crumble a little.

He was sobbing, curled up in a ball as flinched again and again. I could barely pick out what he was saying, but what it was froze my blood.

"I'm sorry. I should have listened. I shouldn't have trusted her. Dad please. Dad... I'm sorry. Dad... please." After what seemed like forever hearing the constant mantra of 'I'm sorry's and begging for his father he straightened, rolling onto his back.

His hands scrabbled at something that was a few inches from his face.

Terrified screams filled the air as he clawed at nothing.

"Dad! I'm not dead! Dad? Anybody! Please!" That seemed to go on for hours. Finally the cries tapered off, leaving me to digest the information Hood's fear revealed.

This was memory toxin. Not an altering substance, but one that recreated your worst memories.

Hood had woken up in his coffin.

I think I might puke.

Just as my body was about to expel the acid it held a soft sob was released.

"Mom? Mom... You've gotta wake up. Mom please..." The words filled the air, a series of bribes and begging that actually made me puke.

That was just the beginning. It seemed to work in a non linear pattern, but I was just along for the ride. 

I watched as he relived dying, resurrecting, torture, betrayal, and loss.

It was horrifying.

There was _so much_. 

When Hood finally fell asleep I breathed out a sigh of relief.

I would make sure we found his family, or Bruce adopted him it was the last thing I did. He deserved some small form of happiness.

He woke after about an hour, pissed off and twitchy. 

He ran off to a safe house. 

I wanted to follow, but he deserved his peace. He had just saved Damian again. This time at the price of his pain and privacy.

The poor kid probably wanted to sleep for a week after what I just saw.


	22. Histories and Symbols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Arkham breakout and the discussion it causes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I actually started writing this from Cass's point of view, which didn't end up working very well. But here's the new and improved edition of this chapter.  
> School's back in session... Why. Just. Why.  
> I have a week left of distance learning and then in person will begin again, so the whole update schedule may be thrown off.  
> Also quick warning, referenced self harm while under the influence of fear toxin.

-Kori-

Hood's encounter with the toxin from the man they called Scarecrow left him shaken, though he would likely deny such accusations. He had not answered any calls for some time, so Roy and I decided to check out the safe house he had given us access to. 

I do not think that Roy was expecting to actually find him there. 

What we found was concerning. 

The safe house was quiet as we entered. We had found Hood passed out on the couch, bloody furrows scratched into his arms. I immediately searched for aggressors, but Roy just made a mournful noise he made had me questioning what had happened.

Roy had explained that he had inflicted them upon himself. I was disturbed to say the least. 

He had been twitching in his sleep, starting awake when Roy tapped his foot to help him escape his nightmare. He had burst up from his placement on the couch, his eyes taking in all of his surroundings as he brandished a large knife.

My time with the Titans taught me quite a bit about Earth culture, not everything but a lot, so I believe that it is an odd thing for someone's first reaction is to grab a blade when woken up.

He had mentioned the fight with Scarecrow flippantly, then ushered us out of his home.

Roy had been tearing himself apart over it, and I can't say I reacted much better. The painful expression of agony on Hood's young face will not be something I forget for quite some time.

Roy sat with me in my ship as he explained the nuances of a movie called Aliens.

Honestly... It sounds slightly offensive.

I am attempting to understand how the aliens in this film even put their spawn inside of a human's body when Roy's phone rings.

"Hey, Hood, what's up?" I strained my ears to hear what Hood said.

"I've got a bunch of drug dealers hedging in on my territory. Want to come help me blow their shit to hell?"

"Yeah, just text me the address and we'll be on our way over."

The fight was minimal, but Roy enjoys watching drugs go up in flames so I can't begrudge him this.

Hood was quiet as he watched the flames consume the warehouse. We began to go our separate ways when Hood stiffened. A TV in a nearby restaurant was playing a news segment.

The title was: **Arkham Breakout. Mad Hatter and Joker Still at Large**

Hood was running towards his bike in a matter of seconds. Roy and I weren't far behind, trailing him as we heard a litany of curses flow from his mouth.

"Fucking Arkham... Can't keep anyone in for more than a few seconds... Fucking clown."

"Hood! What's going on?"

"The clown's out again. I've got to go make sure he doesn't kill another bat child."

Roy flinched minutely, as anyone who remembered the fallen Robin would.

"Do you need us to help?"

"No. Bats will probably usher you out of Gotham anyways. He doesn't like other people messing with his primary play partner."

"Then won't he kick you out too?"

"I'd like to see him try. Go home. I'll call you when I've put a bullet in the bastard's skull." 

With that he leapt off of the roof, mounting his motorcycle mere moments later.

"Will we do as he wishes?" Roy sighed.

"I don't see what else we can do. The kid's right. The Bat won't like us being in Gotham for this, and we can't do much to help if we're flying blind." I nodded, picking him up and beginning the flight back to my ship.

-Bruce-

Hood roared into the cave, having somehow bypassed the security on the tunnel. I heard Tim hiss slightly as he noticed him, still wrapped in a few casts but almost ready to be getting back into shape.

"Since I'm sure all of you have noticed that Joker's out again I'm going to assume that we're not sitting on our asses. Where's the fucker hiding?" I frowned.

"We don't know."

"Great, just great. Send me the files. I know you already hacked my computer."

"This is not your case."

"Any time that fucking clown is involved it's my case! Send me the files." I growled, ready to tell him in no uncertain terms that he was not to get involved when Tim reached around me and transferred the files.

I turned to him and he met my gaze with unwavering strength. I simply sighed, turning to the batcomputer's main terminal once more.

I watched in the reflection of Hood as he reached into the saddlebags of his cycle. He then sat on the floor with his back to the bike, helmet still in place as he worked his way through the files. 

We worked in silence for hours, until the gentle hum of Nightwing's bike edged into the cave. 

He looked surprised to see Hood, but didn't comment. Robin and Black Bat showed up a few minutes later, the former of the two latching onto Hood with a speed that the Flash would have been proud of.

"Akhi, what are you doing here?"

"Joker's loose." Damian sucked in a loud breath, plastering himself up against the larger man's side, looking every bit like the 12 year old he is.

Dick and I looked at each other in confusion as Cass stared at Hood with an odd expression on her face.

Tim had been sent to bed by Alfred, telling him that he had no business being up when he was still healing. I doubt he's actually sleeping, but he had the good sense to at least seem like he was listening. 

"You named yourself after his old alias. Why are you so determined to find him if you named yourself after him?" Damian looked at me sharply and Hood tensed slightly.

"He took something from me. So I took something from him. I got the bad end of the deal, but at least I can claim it was just based off of the urban legend if I want to separate myself from the fucker."

Dick seemed to understand what he meant, reaching out to him and taking a step forward.

"No... You said..."

"I said I got killed by a crazy. Draw your own conclusions. Besides, I'm not going to let him kill another one of the Bat-Clan."

My eyes unerringly turn to Jason's memorial case, the tears and bloodstains popping out to me. Reminding me of the smell of blood and ash, the feeling of shattered bones shifting underneath skin and the cold weight of my dead son in my arms.

The silence after his statement is much more tense, but we continue to work. 

After about a half an hour a ping from Oracle gets all of our attention.

"I've located Hatter, I think he may be working with the Joker this time around as well. I'm sending you the coordinates now." 

We all began to suit up. Hood stood and began to prep his bike to accompany us.

"You won't be coming with us."

"Like hell I won't. You couldn't keep me off this case if I had another collapsed lung."

"You have a collapsed lung?" Dick shrieked as he emerged from the lockers.

"No. I don't anymore." 

"It doesn't change the fact that you aren't coming. There is a warrant out for your arrest by the Justice League."

"But you won't call it in, because that would mean they come to pick me up, and that would give them an excuse to come and help clean up Gotham's mess. I'm coming. I won't kill Hatter or any henchmen. I'll even let you sync my comms up to yours, but I'm coming."

With that he pulled Robin onto his bike behind him. 

I grunted with frustration as I leapt into the batmobile, simply hoping that this night would end with us returning that maniac of a clown to his cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never watched Aliens. Be gentle with me.


	23. The Mad Hatter's Tea Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mad Hatter and Joker are working together... Yay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate school.   
> Like, I get that I need to expand my horizons, but it's really just an over-sized daycare.   
> Heck, I'm going to be a pursuing a career in Library Sciences and Creative Writing. I don't need this Biology/Algebra II crap.  
> Honestly, who uses Punnett squares?  
> Anyways.   
> Welcome to the first (and maybe only) chapter that includes more than 2 perspectives.

-Barbara-

The moment that the comms synced up I knew that tonight was going to end poorly. Hood had joined our posse. 

My information on both of his alias's had grown exponentially in the few weeks, the sheer number of kills attributed to his name was staggering. Add in the fact that his first recorded kill would have been around when he was 15 or 16. Even then, that was just his first one with his current alias. Add the fact that Ra's wasn't known for letting someone out who he wasn't sure would follow through and you have a rather disturbing picture.

Well, in all honesty, it's all rather disturbing.

From being killed at a young age to returning in a way that you would get the attention of the world's leading immortality seeker. That has to be a rather traumatizing experience, and I can't imagine that he has ever had time to process that trauma in a healthy way.

Cass had already decided he was to be her little brother.

I understand where Cass is coming from, truly. She sees herself in his past, maybe not entirely accurate, with him clearly having been raised in Gotham at some point, but being raised in terrible conditions was something they definitely had in common. 

When Cass came to the clock tower after Hood was taken to the manor she had seen me rooting through yet another file full of carnage caused by the very boy ensconced at the manor. 

She had stood there silently as screen after screen of blood and violence passed, she only spoke when I had turned to ask her what she thought of him. Her words currently running through my head.

_Hurting. Not just outside. In pain. Not willing to see that he should not have to be in pain._

I had asked her if she knew who he was, her having met him while she was under her mother or father was unlikely, but not entirely outside the realm of possibility.

She had tilted her head, nodding after a moment.

_Different. Pain was different. Good person then. Still good now._

I had voiced my disbelief that he could be a good person after all of the death that he left in his wake. Cass had shaken her head.

_Wants to be good. Lost his way. Is finding his way back._

Cass had left after that, not giving me time to respond. However, her words bounce around in my brain as I listen to the chatter through the comms. 

Damian is demanding the backstory behind why he would have gotten into a fight over chili dogs.

Their comms aren't attached to the others, using a private channel that I have access to through a series of hacking tricks. 

It is when Hood's voice cuts through, the modulation on his earpiece less adult, that I realize just who this is.

Who would have risen from the dead. 

Who would have gotten the attention of Ra's.

Who would have, apparently, not only gotten stabbed in a fight over a chili dog, but also have once sent a fully trained squad of assassins to retrieve said chili dogs for him and Damian so that Damian could appreciate the wonders of American cuisine. Even if he had to begrudgingly concede to Damian getting a veggie dog with his chili.

Oh my God.

I push the thoughts aside, realizing that now is not the time to focus on that. Even if every fiber of my being insists upon it.

It was only once the raid on Mad Hatter's latest hide out that I realized that this night was definitely going to go very wrong.

The Joker.

The _Red Hood_.

Oh God.

This was going to end terribly.

-Jason-

The night was looking like it was going to be a night of frustration and nightmares until Babs gave us the coordinates.

Hatter working with Joker... So essentially the freak who tried to end me with the psycho who actually did. This is going to end well.

Black Bat and Robin were going to deal with what we assumed was Hatter's main base of operations. I was tagging along with Nightwing, Spoiler, and the big bad Bat himself to track down Joker's location.

We struck simultaneously, goons falling to our fists, guns, and staffs. The fight was almost pitifully short. 

We began to split up, Oracle directing us to go with certain partners to investigate the nearby buildings in case the information was just slightly off.

I was surprised when she paired me up with B though. Maybe she just doesn't want any of the other getting hurt? I wouldn't let them, but she probably doesn't know that.

B and I silently enter the next door apartment building. It's on the edge of the Bowery, so of course the place is deserted. Everything is going fine until we enter the third floor. 

Suddenly a cage drops down around us. 

Like a literal cage.

Fuck my life.

My comm crackles as Oracle opens our channel.

"O? Get the other batlings to maybe break this fucking cage off, will you?" 

The cage was pretty big, letting B and I stand fully as well as have at least a 10 foot separation between us, but I have a bad feeling about this.

We sat in silence for a few moments before a tiny man with a top hat came hopping over to where we were held, looking rather pleased with himself.

"I just figured out how to get these masks to work properly through your cowls! I think that you'll like the results." The mad little man was skipping around to where he had a switch. As soon as it was flipped we were surrounded by flashing lights that were dizzying, but not that distracting otherwise. I was about to laugh it off as a failure when I realized that B had stiffened in a way that was almost lifeless. 

"O. Don't send them in. Hatter has a way to bypass your masks." I heard cursing flow through the link as keys clacked. 

"Oh. It didn't work for you. Shame. Joker wanted to see whether or not you deserved the title. Oh well. I might as well get some entertainment out of this. Batman, kill the Red Hood."

My mind ground to a halt.

A few years ago I would have leapt at this chance. The chance to fight and see who was better, but now... I've made my peace with everything that's happened. I don't want to fight Bruce.

"O. Is there a way I can get Batman to snap out of it without turning off the source?"

"You'd need to shock him out of it."

Oh no.

Fuck no.

"I have a taser." I state weakly, hoping it will work.

"Nice try Hood." The moments it takes for the order to take hold are gone, Batman now coming forth to kick my ass.

I dodge around him as best I can, but the cage isn't helping me out any. B got in a good hit when I tried darting past him after he had trapped me in the corner. It hit my ribs, which, ow.

I flew into the bars of the cage and soon blows were hailing down on my helmet. 

I managed to get it off before he accidentally blew it up, but the blows kept coming. His hands grabbed my neck and I tried to think of an alternative solution.

I couldn't find on.

"B?" The grip faltered slightly. "Dad, please." My neck was released suddenly and Batman was certainly shocked.

I grabbed my helmet and wedged it between the bars. Grabbing Batman I hauled him to the opposite side and blew the fucking cage wide open.

Clocking Hatter on the head was easy, depositing him and a shocked, silent Batman even more so. 

It was a matter of seconds and I was gone.

-Bruce-

_B?... Dad, please._

He called me dad.

His face... God he looked just like Jason would...

Oh God. 

I must be blind.

The name.

The alias.

The attention from Ra's.

The... The autopsy scar.

All of it.

Jason is alive. 

My son is alive.


	24. Obsessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Red Hood tears apart Gotham trying to locate the Joker, other parties make their interests known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just watched an amazing movie.  
> It was called Grosse Point Blank.   
> It's about a contract killer who goes to his 10 year high school anniversary.   
> It's hilarious and I hope you guys watch it some time.

-Jason-

Fuck.

Why did I have to go and get myself caught?

Why did I call Bruce dad?

I lost that right years ago. 

Fuck, just forget it.

I have been ripping apart Gotham, brick by brick for the psycho, hoping to find him before the Bats do. It hasn't been working out so hot thus far. However, I have also stopped at least 23 cases of attempted murder and an exponentially larger number of muggings in the past 4 days. 

It's as I'm swinging through what appears to be the Golden Boy's territory I see a suspicious flash of orange and blue.

I land behind the man, silent as I can be, not that it does me any good with his enhance hearing.

"Red Mask. Or would you prefer I call you Red Hood while you're in Gotham?"

"Hood... What are you doing here Slade? I thought we had an agreement."

"And what agreement was that?"

"You stay our of Gotham and leave the Bats alone, I don't make life hell for you by interrupting every single job you take." Slade tilted his head, his mask's eye boring into me.

"I think it's awfully presumptuous of you to think that you would be able to do that." I narrow my eyes, though he can't tell through my mask.

"Try me."

"Kid, you're no Grayson. You might be irritating, but you wouldn't be able to stop me if you tried. I'd gut you like any other mark before you would even have time to fire one of your handy little guns."

I smiled, lips curling into a smirk as I feigned a growl.

"I said: Try me."

With that I unholstered my guns and prepared to fight.

-Dick-

Bruce was dragged out of that apartment building by a very tense Hood. He had been staring off into space, his compartmentalization expression face on. In fact, he only really roused himself when Hood had shoved him into my arms and disappeared. 

Whatever Hood said to him... it must be quite something.

When we had him in the cave Bruce had to be forced to sit for the post-mind control tests, and then was off to the computer.

He had not left said computer for 3 days. 

Bruce had fallen asleep twice in that time, eating only when Alfred brought food down to him.

What was weirder was that I couldn't figure out what it was that Hood had told him.

The files he brought up were mostly in connection to Hood, so he must have said something personal. The files ranged from hospital records to a victims list, even including Head Industries analysis reports.

The Joker lay forgotten next to whatever Hood had said, at least for Bruce.

Cass had merely shaken her head when I asked about it, Tim looking at me like he wanted to speak but couldn't, and Damian... Damian just raised his nose and walked away.

On the 4th night of this odd routine that we had fallen into I was patrolling, a boring night honestly, when I heard gunshots.

I veered off of my typical path and found a sight I was certainly not expecting.

Deathstroke was engaged in combat with Hood... And they are at a draw from what I see.

Hood was switching from guns to knives to shurikens with deadly efficiency. 

Holy _shit_.

I had sparred with Hood. 

He had been hurt, sure, but this... this was something else.

When I landed on the roof Deathstroke turned, leaving his back open slightly to Hood. A gunshot and a slash of a knife later and Slade was incapacitated on the roof, his lung shot through and spine nearly severed near the neck. 

For any other person it would have been a killing blow, but Slade's healing factor would have him back to fighting shape within a few days.

"Yo, Nintendo, the deal stands."

"The deal stands, but you definitely aren't like your brother." Slade's voice was weak and breathless, a result of the catastrophic wounds inflicted.

"But lucky for you we have an audience... Remember the deal. If you come to Gotham without my express permission again I will be forced to enact my end." I just stared as Slade hauled himself up and strode away, Hood still with his gun trained on him.

"If you ever want the deal offered him..."

"Nintendo, if I wanted to be your apprentice I wouldn't have sliced your fucking spine. Fuck off."

"The offer stands." With that Slade walked away.

"What was that?"

"That was me taking care of your problems. You're welcome."

"What was the deal you were talking about?"

"He doesn't come to Gotham. He doesn't touch a hair on any bat heads and we're good."

"What's your part of the deal?" I asked hesitantly, not sure if I really wanted to know.

"If he doesn't I interfere with every single contract he has. I ruin his reputation, either by becoming the better mercenary, or by simply making it impossible for him to complete his contracts." 

"That... I don't really know what to say to that."

"Good." With that Hood turned to walk away.

"Wait... What did you tell B? To get him out from under the Mad Hatter?" Hood tensed and turned to face me fully.

"He didn't tell you?" The confusion was clear, even with the voice modulator.

"No, he's just been tearing apart the internet's files on seemingly random topics."

"Of course he is. Well, at least _he_ hasn't changed." Hood was chuckling as he shook his head, not realizing I had gone completely still.

"What?" I breathed, the breath forced from my lungs.

Hood froze.

"Fuck. Why did I say that?"

"...Jason?" 

"Um... Hi? It's been a bit... I gotta go..." I surged forward, wrapping him in a hug.

"Little Wing?"

"...Yeah?"

"Why didn't you come home? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Not a question I'm answering today." I tightened my grip, pressing my face into his shoulder.

I breathed in the scent, sweat, leather, gunpowder, and cinnamon.

I focused on the feeling of warmth and a beating heart.

"You're going to have to let go at some point."

"No. No I will not. I have years to make up for."

"Dick. Let. Me. Go." I hesitantly released him, looking up into the slightly angry mask that was the helmet he wore.

"Is this how... Oh. You told B... OK... who else knows?"

"That I know of? B, Timmy, Dami, and Alfie." 

"Are you serious?" I shrieked. "Am I the last one to know?"

"No. I don't think the girls... Oh fuck you Barb."

"What?"

"She paired me with B in some attempt at soul searching." I smirk.

"She would."

"Oh god, I need a drink." I frown, the levity of the situation gone.

"You drink? You're underage! That's not good for you!"

"OK, 1. You have absolutely no fucking room to talk. 2. It's a figure of speech, I'm more of a cigarettes guy."

"That's not better!"

"You say that... But they used to call in medicine."

"They also used to call leeches medicine."

"Also something I think you should try." Hood swings off, but I'm not leaving him. I left Jason too many times when he was younger.

"Why did you call Slade 'Nintendo'?"

"Deathstroke= DS. DS= Nintendo."

"Oh my god, you are such a nerd."

"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, but will you leave me alone? I have work to do."

"Can I help?"

"No."

"What? Why not?"

"My work is putting the Joker in the ground. Sayonara." 

It isn't until I'm on my way back to the cave that it really sinks in.

Jason.

_Little Wing_ is **_ALIVE_**.


	25. Favoritism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker is still out. People seem to have forgotten that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took this long, pairing writer's block with the reintroduction to in-person learning is a nightmare.

-Damian-

Drake had been released from his casts and was back on patrol.

This was not a good thing.

This meant I had to patrol with Drake on occasion. 

However, I had also had the privilege to see Jason in action again. It feels odd to call him Jason, but the name does suit him. 

The fights that he was apart of were short and brutal, lacking any of the playfulness that he sometimes exhibits. Though with the Joker being loose again I can't really begrudge him this. I had always written off his detestation of the clown to be a simple thing, but knowing that he was brutally murdered by him... It casts it in a bit of a different light. The clown still being alive... Well, I had known that it was a dishonor to the family that a monster such as the clown continued to draw breath, but I had not realized just how much of a dishonor it was. 

When you add to the fact that apparently father has been spreading lies about the circumstances of his death... Suffice to say that I have approached Pennyworth for some additional tales concerning Jason's time at the manor and as Robin.

The stories were infantile, but educational. 

Jason's time at the manor was the largest gap I had in my perception of him. 

Simply knowing he was Robin explains much about him that I otherwise would have considered anomalies. His affinity for jokes or snark fits with the mold, as well as his ability with acrobatics, though that is admittedly not as impressive as Grayson's. 

The knowledge that he has survived so much has only increased my estimations of his skill, even if his origins are less than reputable. 

Though Jason was less than forthcoming with information concerning his death I have begun to piece together what I know for fact. 

Father believes it is his fault.

Jason denies this.

Joker killed him in a brutal fashion and father was too late.

Other than this... Well, I believe that there have been allusions to his birth mother being involved somehow, but I'm not sure if that matters.

The knowledge of the Hood's identity has become an increasingly common commodity. Father's run in with the Mad Hatter had left him shaken, searching up all possible leads for ways that he could have been lying, telling the truth, or even the extent of his mental state. 

I am patrolling with Grayson and Drake when Hood materializes next to me.

"Little Wing!" Grayson cries, flinging himself forward in an attempt to give Hood a hug. 

Jason dodges, coming to my other side.

"I need you guys to choose a different route."

"What? Why?" Drake speaks, eloquently as always.

"I've got something I need to do here and I don't need you interfering."

"Wouldn't it be good to have backup Little Wing?"

"Stop calling me that! And no. Not for this."

"Is it a meeting with your inferiors?" I query, wanting to understand why he socializes with such mindless brutes.

"No."

"... It's Joker isn't it."

"Look Dickwing, you can't stop me from dealing with him."

"No! You should get to face him... But not alone."

"Well I'm certainly not going with _you._ " Grayson's heartbroken pout would have been much more effective had his eyes not been covered by his mask.

Drake had opened his mouth to speak when suddenly Jason tensed impossibly, throwing himself at me. 

The dart flew over my head, landing in gravel where it lay filled with some sort of greenish fluid. When laughter filled the air around us I didn't feel the need to wonder what it was. We are all in battle stances within moments. A small group of thugs falls to us in mere seconds, but Hood follows the laughter and we follow him.

"Well. I must say I wasn't expecting Hoodsie to be running around with you Batlings."

"Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises asshole."

"Hush now Hoodie, I'll be needing to talk to you about the copyright infringement on the name, but first I have a few words to share with the dearest birdies." The painted buffoon begins strutting about waving his hands, which are suspiciously empty. We're at a disadvantage and he knows it.

"What do you want Joker?" Drake asks.

"Skipping the foreplay, eh? Ooh, and you made it out of there... interesting. See, I thought that plan was foolproof, but maybe the second boy wonder was just a disappointment..." Every single one of us bristle. "Oh, sore spot? You would think that with all of the new birdies flying around you would just forget about him."

"Joker. Shut. Up." Grayson's voice is holding unrestrained anger and repressed violence.

"Ah, my least favorite birdie. Why don't you go and find somebody else to bother for a while? I'd like to talk to the kids... No? Shame. I think we could have had some real bonding time." With that Joker twitched his fingers and thugs descended upon us from seemingly nowhere. 

The fight should have been simple, but somehow he managed to get darts of a sedative into both Drake and I's skin. The thugs tied us up and Hood and Nightwing stopped fighting, hands raised in supplication.

"Joker... Let them go." Grayson spoke in a low, warning tone. I had seen him send his distress beacon earlier, as we all should have done the moment we heard his distinctive cackle.

"I don't think I will. I get so bored, and ever since my favorite little birdie passed on... Well, it gets so tiring having to deal with all of you, not to mention I now have a name thief."

I saw Hood twitch, and suddenly I knew what was going to happen.

"Akhi, no!" Hood reached up slowly, removing his helmet to reveal the domino mask underneath it. He let the helmet fall to the ground, kicking it over to the Joker.

"If this is what's got your panties in a twist, take it."

"Ah, a plot twist! You actually care about the youngings don't you? Here I thought that you and I could make a nice little duo. Pity. I guess I'll have to make do with breaking in the new additions to your little flock... Wait." Hood is tense enough that I think he might snap. "I know you." The Joker got up close enough to trace a light scar near Jason's hairline. "I put that there."

"If it makes you feel any better, I did tell the big man you said hello." The Joker releases a delighted cackle as he jabs a needle into Grayson's neck lightning fast. 

"Oh, the only thing that this is missing is a traitorous blonde, to lead you to a warehouse. How about it kiddo? You never did tell me which hurt more?" Nightwing makes a strangled noise as I register the words, _traitorous blonde_.

Jason was betrayed.

That is my last thought before a goon knocks me over the head and everything goes black.

-Bruce-

The distress beacon shocks me out of my research, looking for clues as to the Joker's whereabouts and the mystery of Jason's resurrection. I would definitely be talking to him about some of it the next time we spoke.

I suited up and rushed to the location stated, only to find Red Robin, Nightwing, and Robin all unconscious. The ground was littered with... Joker goons.

I approach carefully, taking in a group of discarded guns topped with a note.

_I figured that I was due for a little play time with one of your birds since the last one was so disappointing. I hope you don't mind that I picked an older model, I'll be sure not to neglect the others in my next play date. -J_

Oh God.

Oh no.

No.

Not again.

The Joker has Jason. 

Again.


	26. The Pain of Times Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason is with the Joker.   
> This will end one way.   
> With Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the brutal cliffhanger I left all of you kind people with. I'm afraid that I'm a bit cruel.

-Jason-

The fact that the Joker is still alive is the main thing that kept me from going to them in the beginning, now... Now I just fell that it's not worth it. The restraints that they will have me adhere to are just not worth it. Murder... It leaves a sour taste on my tongue, I don't like it, but it's necessary. The truth is that Gotham needs more than Batman, and if it's up to me to pick up the slack, then I will.

However, this also puts me in the unenviable position I currently claim as mine.

I am tied up, in a warehouse, with the Joker. The ropes are knotted in a convoluted mess that seems more like a tangle than a knot and I doubt that I will be able to untie it without a knife or a lot of luck. 

I'm not a lucky person.

The fact that Joker exists at all attests to that, but I think that it goes beyond my issues with the psychotic piece of shit. 

I was resurrected for a reason, and it sure as hell wasn't to let the clown kill me again. This time I have the advantage... Well, actually he does, but he also seems to have figured that I still operate on the bat code.

_Not this time bitch._

The warehouse is similar enough to the one in Ethiopia to have me tense before the added stress of having the clown there. Him paired with the fact that he seems to love beating _that_ dead horse of a joke and I am on the border of a full meltdown, whether that would be a lazarus fueled rampage or panic attack I'm not sure. 

I've been so good about the whole lazarus upkeep thing, if I lose it now I'm gonna be pissed. 

The Joker has been dancing around me, regaling me with the stories of the absolutely brutal Batman that was left in the wake of my death while fiddling with my helmet.

"I'm so _proud_. You made the old bat go Batty! And now... I wish I was there to see his face when you bit it, but man... what did he look like when he realized you were a psychopathic killer just like your Uncle J? You know... I always wondered what would happen if I got one of you birdies to fight along side of me, do you think that you can find it in yourself to let bygones be bygones and go kill a few birds?"

"Fuck off asshat."

"You kids today. No manners. I hate to see that a student of mine has gone off and lost those... Lucky for you I know just how to teach unruly birds how to behave."

He brandishes what looks to be an over-sized stun baton.

I guess I'm not so unlucky after all. 

Broken bones are worse to deal with than electrical burns and if he brought out a crowbar I would probably lose the semblance of control that I've been holding onto thus far.

Even so, not a fun time. 

The crackling heat of electricity rips into my leg. I grit my teeth as he dances around me, stabbing me occasionally with the irritating little thing. 

Eventually he got bored, especially since I had refused to give him the satisfaction of any pained noises outside of the occasional grunt. 

He left me, pouting slightly as he went to find a more satisfying weapon to poke me with. I used that as an opportunity to slice at my bonds with a small knife that I had sewn into the hem of my sleeve. 

The ropes were almost ready to snap when he came back.

"Sorry for the wait, but it came to my attention that you haven't gotten my mark yet. I think that we need to rectify that." As soon as he revealed what he was planning I started thrashing. 

Somehow he had managed to get a custom made J branding iron. 

Whoever had made it for him was either a complete idiot or someone who needed to have their hands ripped off and shoved up their ass.

The Joker taps his chin, surveying me like a piece of meat as I struggle to get the last few bands of the rope sliced.

"Hm... Where to put it. I'm tempted to put it on your cheek, but that seems too obvious, can't have everyone knowing you belong to me, now can we? Oh! I know where it should go! Since you can't be a birdie..." With that he stooped down and ripped open my armored shirt right above my left pec. 

The white hot curved metal came down, searing into my flesh.

The scream that came from beneath my locked teeth was as agonizing as the feeling of my skin bubbling underneath the unspeakable heat that the cruel laughter. The shape didn't feel obvious now, but it would be. 

Oh God. 

I've getting the Joker's mark _burned_ into my skin.

-Bruce- 

Tracking Jason turned out to be easier than I had originally thought it would be. 

Oracle was able to trace his helmet which she had connected with when we went up against Mad Hatter.

The warehouse I follow it to is quiet for all of 10 seconds before a gut wrenching scream fills the air. It is immediately followed by a familiar cackle.

The scene I burst into will haunt me just as that fateful day years before. 

The Joker stands, his foot pressing Jason to the ground as he presses what appears to be a branding iron into his pectoral. 

Jason is trying to arch off the ground, his head thrown back and his teeth clenched. I don't hesitate before throwing myself at the Joker. 

The fight is a quick exchange of blows, the Joker's blows confusing and following no logical pattern, forcing me on the defensive. When he stumbles over the discarded helmet that Jason wore he I lunged forward, ready to end it. 

The Joker, however, simply ducked and grabbed the headpiece. I rolled, turning to face him and get him away from Jason... but Jason wasn't laying on the ground anymore. He was laying propped up against a nearby crate, a trigger in his now freed hands. I barely have time to register the change in position before Jason presses the trigger. 

His helmet lights up and then an explosion rips through the air. 

The Joker is consumed in a fiery ball and his screams quickly fill the air. After about 2 seconds of watching this unfold a knife flies from Jason's hands, ending the horrific noise.

I stare in silence as the body of my most persistent enemy lies dead. 

Killed by my child.

"I don't want a lecture. If you're going to yell at me about this, do it later." By the time my brain registers the meaning of the words Jason is gone. 

The Joker lies dead and my son was the one to do it.

I move to follow him, picking up snippets of conversation spoken through a comm link.

"...finally fuckin' dead." and "I need immediate vacation." were the two bits that were truly absorbed.

He was leaving Gotham.

... And he had just committed murder, but him leaving takes precedence now. 

"Jason!"

"Can it, old man. I don't wanna hear it." He used his grapple to propel himself onto the roofs. I followed, only to be met by a glowing Tamerranian and a fussing archer. "B, leave it alone. I don't wanna hear the lecture, and I'm leavin' anyway. I'm fuckin' done with this shithole of a city right now." When he said those words Starfire grabbed both Arsenal and Jason, lifting them in the air and flying them away.

I was left behind, trying to make sense of everything that has happened tonight.

I only hope that Jason's teammates can keep him out of trouble for long enough for him to heal.


	27. The Past and Paths to the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason reflects on his past and where he's going with his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you for sticking with me this far. I know that this hasn't always been easy and I thank you so much for your support thus far. I have a rough outline for the next few chapters and I'm really excited to see what you think.  
> Again, thank you so much for your support and comments. They've really helped me stay motivated and I'm so glad you like it.  
> Warning- Referenced Drug Abuse

-Roy-

The call that had me rushing into Gotham was not what one would call bad news, but the tone with which the news was delivered left a bit to be desired.

Hood's tone had been flat, dead and when he said he needed a vacation I knew that this was Kori and I's time to shine. 

We have a freaking spaceship, if we can't use it to take our, likely traumatically shaken, friend out on a nice island vacation then we are doing something wrong.

I had Kori fly me out to the address he gave us and saw him swing up to us moments later. 

I sucked in a breath through my teeth involuntarily. 

Hood's helmet was gone, the domino that he wore underneath it was clinging to his face in a way that suggested a few tears were trapped behind it, and his shirt had been ripped, revealing a patchwork of electrical burns. None of that was what made me feel so nauseous. The thing that made me feel a little queasy was the brand on his pec.

The cruel red of a J curled there, right under one of the arms of the autopsy scar.

Man, this world just won't give this kid a break, will it?

Bats rappelled up behind him, Hood. 

"Jason!" Hood... Jason?... replies in an uncharacteristically tired way. I nod to Kori and she grips us both, pulling us up into the air. 

When she does a pained hiss escapes from Hood, reminding me of the plentiful other burns that littered his entire body.

The flight doesn't take long, Kori landing us next to her ship in mere moments. She releases me, but doesn't let go of Hood. He begins to protest when she shushes him, shifting her hold on him and taking him to the medical bay. 

The burns turn out to be of the electrical nature, burn cream is applied, but the bits of metal that had burned into his flesh... Those had to be dug out. 

Kori moved to put him under but Hood's hand shot out and gripped her wrist. He shook his head tersely and Kori's face pinched into a frown.

"No. No drugs."

Kori opened her mouth to object, but I put my hand on her shoulder. 

Whatever she saw in my eyes must have convinced her not to press the issue and she stripped him of his tattered shirt.

The scars on his body were just as present as they had been the weeks before, but I ignored them in favor of looking at the crooks of his arms. They had the occasional puncture, but nothing that would suggest prolonged drug abuse. So it had to be someone close to him.

Damn, this kid really hasn't had a single nice moment, has he?

"Hey... Hood? I'm gonna go get the ship ready for take off. When you're done with this I'd like to talk to you." Hood nodded tersely as Kori began digging into his flesh to remove the metal.

He emerged from the medical bay after about a half an hour, Kori trailing after him.

"So... What happened?" I ask tentatively, not sure if I want to know.

"Met up with the birds and the Joker. Joker's goons drugged the young ones and Joker recognized me. He drugged the others and decided to 'make sure that if I wander off again people will know who I belong to' that kind of shit."

"Well fuck." The laugh that escapes me is slightly hysterical. "He knows you? To the point where he chose to drag you off instead of someone who's connected to Batman? What did you do to him?" I see his muscles tense. He may be hard to read when he's in top form, but when he's tired or hurt he seems to be more expressive.

"I... He may have killed me." I had known... Oh fuck. 

I had known he was killed at one point, nobody would get an autopsy scar if they hadn't, but... The Joker. 

You don't even need to expand on that.

"And he's...?"

"Dead. Finally fucking dead." The wash of relief that flows over me is extreme, and I don't even live in Gotham.

"I feel quite relieved. That creature would never have been allowed to remain on Tamarran."

"Yeah... So why did the big bat call you Jason?" Hood stared at me incredulously.

"Because that's my name asshole."

"Oh. How does he know you?"

"I... um... May have been Robin at one point." Jason spoke softly, like he was aware that he had just dropped one of the biggest bombs in history on me.

"WHAT!? Oh... OH FUCK. I've been running around with the second Robin this whole time? What the fuck man? I mean, I know _we_ weren't super close or anything, but why the hell would you not tell _them_?" Jason began to scratch the back of his neck, looking sheepish.

"I didn't really tell anybody. They all just kind of figured it out and I just went along with it."

"Is it weird to want to know why?"

"No. I just didn't think... I didn't think it was the right thing to do at the time. I still think it happened too soon."

"Dude. The last time I saw you, you were a 4 foot terror to behold and the cutest thing to walk out of middle school. I think you waited long enough, now come on. Somehow I think that assassin training didn't let you watch very many movies, and I know for a fact that you hadn't watched _Die Hard_ before you took a vacay." Jason snorted.

"I guess that's one way of putting it... I accept your most gracious offer to appease me with gratuitous violence. Kori, you gonna watch with us?"

"Of course! I shall retrieve the snacks."

With that she flew off, leaving me with a very much alive Jason Todd who is now officially my best friend, and there is nothing he can do about it.

-Talia-

I received a call from one of my agents in Gotham the day after the event.

"My lady, the clown prince has fallen. Our sources say that the Red Hood was responsible."

"Thank you. Return to your post."

The call is ended simply, but I remain uneasy.

Jason had told me that he wished to have his father kill the clown. I had remained skeptical, knowing that my Beloved sticks to his code religiously, but now... Now Jason had killed him.

Part of me is proud that he did it. That he rid this world of the stain of evil that had taken Gotham by storm... But part of me is wishing that he did not need to. 

The phone is ringing before I even register that I have selected his contact information.

"H'llo?" Jason's voice is sleep thick, which concerns me. Has he been drugged? He never sleeps well after anything to do with the Joker. Perhaps killing him actually helped?

"Habibi."

"Oh. Hey Tals. What's up? Is Damian OK?"

"Yes, last I spoke with him he was quite interested in your past. However, that is not why I have called. My agents report that you killed the Joker." Jason sucked in a breath of air.

"Um. Yeah. I did."

"Habibi... If I had known you had abandoned your plan to have your father deal with him I would have come to dispose of that piece of filth myself."

"Talia... It's fine. I killed him and that's the end of it. I dealt with it."

"But you should not have had to do so. It is a parent's place to defend their children, and if your father would not do it, I would have."

"I know. Talia, that... That means a lot to me, but you killed Ra's. You don't need to kill him too. Besides, it was incredibly cathartic." A small laugh bubbles from my lips.

"I would assume it was. How are you?"

"I'm... I've been better. But Roy and Kori are here with me and we've got a few leads on who actually killed the All Caste, so I think that I have something to do."

"Jason. I want you to be honest with me. Did he hurt you?" The words he speaks next are quiet.

"Minor electrocution torture and a brand on my left pectoral muscle." 

"What is the brand of?"

"A, J." The letter is whispered, and I feel the sudden urge to find a way to revive the Joker so that I can make him suffer.

"Habibi. If you need me to get you..."

"No. No I'm fine. The burn isn't even that bad. Kori's medical tech helped a lot."

"I'm glad. Get some rest Jason. I'm sure that you need it."

"Bye mom." With that he ends the call.

I feel a little breathless. 

Jason calling me _mom_ , while not exactly a rare occurrence, happens seldom enough for it to be precious.

He'll be fine. 

In the meantime however, I have work to do to make sure that my sons have something to inherit when the time comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know, I am a strong supporter of familial revenge murder. If anybody hurt my older sister or little brothers I would go John Wick on their asses. I feel like a lot of people don't recognize that it's a pretty common thing to be protective of someone you love. Honestly, that is part of why I want Bruce to be a good parent, but he doesn't always show up that way.


	28. The Ask and the Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian, Tim, and Dick deal with guilt. Bruce tries to understand a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason's kill policy is a point of contention for me. I support him, but I also feel like he isn't the type of person to want to keep killing people long term. If he feels the need he will, but his beginning story was mostly shaped by the lazarus pit. Part of why he kills is he believes that it is better that the deaths be on his soul so that others can sleep easier at night.   
> I think that he has terrible self esteem and that will showcase itself throughout most of my works.

-Dick-

When I came to I was laying in the medical bay in the cave. My head was pounding and I felt like I had cotton in my mouth.

Drugged.

I was drugged by...

Joker! 

I shot up, trying to ignore the nausea it caused, failing, and then releasing the contents of my stomach into a large bowl that was thrust before me. 

"Brother. Careful. You are safe." Cass's hand made light contact with my back, rubbing small circles as I tried to recover from my bout of regurgitation.

"Damian? Tim?"

"Alright, both of them." I nodded slightly, drawing in a shaky breath before it froze in my lungs.

"Jason?" Cass's face closed off slightly.

"Ran away." Blood began to rush in my ears.

"No! No, the Joker got him. We need to find him!"

"B found him. Killed Joker. Ran away." I felt the blood stop rushing.

"What? The Joker's... Dead?" Cass nodded solemnly.

"Hood killed him." 

The feeling of relief that flooded me should have made me feel terrible, but the Joker had hurt all of us. Every single one of us has been hurt by him in one traumatizing way or another, none more so than Jason.

And God, isn't that a trippy feeling, to know that Jason just killed his murderer?

This world has gotten to the point where I truly don't know if it's a hallucination half the time, but we move forward.

Jason not being here... Well. I can't really say that I'm surprised.

After I learned it was him I had felt a rush of joy and euphoria, only to be plummeted into horror when I realized that he didn't want to come back.

That he killed people.

That he had seen the awful memorial case.

That he had been alone in the league of assassins for 6 years.

That he had been dipped in the _lazarus pit_!

I laid in bed for about 15 minutes, waiting for the overwhelming nausea mixed with relief to pass before getting up and going over to the computer to see Bruce.

I was not prepared to see an autopsy report on the Joker. 

I'm not complaining that I saw it, but a little bit of warning would have been nice. 

The Joker was covered in burns, likely caused by an incendiary device, and had a knife wound to the throat.

Huh.

"Jason didn't have any bombs on him that I could see, do you have any idea where it came from?" Bruce's frown deepened.

"Jason blew up his helmet."

"WHAT? How?"

"I believe that he had bombs built into the framework of the helmet." Laughter explodes... No that's a terrible choice of words. Laughter _bursts_ from my mouth in raucous peals.

"Oh my God. Seriously? Who does that?"

"Evidently Jason does." I get myself under control and decide to ask the question that is why I actually came over. Even if it is a sobering one.

"Do you know where he went?"

"No. He sent off a call to someone though. I think Talia might have some idea." Just the small utterance of her name fills me with an irate anger.

"I _hate_ her. How could she keep Damian _and_ Jason from us?"

"I don't know. She has always been complex."

" _Complex?_ That's not complexity, that's full on evil!"

"We don't have the full story."

"Like you do not have the full story on many things pertaining to Jason, Father." Damian was peeking over my shoulder, examining the gruesome report with fascination.

"What do you mean, Dami?"

"Your facts concerning Todd are inaccurate most of the time. I have spoken with him about his past little and I feel I know more about him than you who lived with him for 3 years."

"Damian, what do we not know?" Bruce's voice was quiet and demanding, his desperation for answers leaking through slightly.

"I do not know just how much you know."

"We know he's Jason, we know how he was raised, we know B took him in and his time as Robin. After that, we know that he somehow was resurrected, trained with the league, helped to raise you, and killed the Joker." The flow of words spilled from my mouth, creating the broad strokes of a pain filled life that we didn't know existed for the majority of it.

"I am not certain, but I believe that some misconceptions have been drawn from what you know. He would not speak of it at length, but he told me that the conclusions you came to about the events surrounding his death were not accurate."

I felt myself freeze. 

That horrible day, the day I wasn't even on Earth for, was never talked about. Bruce hadn't let me see the autopsy report, but I got a condensed version of the story from Bruce. 

Jason went to Ethiopia to meet his birth mother who was a doctor in the relief camp there. 

The Joker was threatening her work.

Jason went after the Joker even though Bruce told him to stay where he had been while he took out a shipment of bombs that the Joker had been going to use.

Bruce didn't get there in time to save him or Sheila, who Jason had taken along to face the Joker. 

Jason had been beaten before his death, then blown up.

"What do you mean?" The words were slow coming out of my mouth, but Bruce looked like he was still trying to grapple his way out of a flashback, so it was up to me to ask the questions I know we both have.

"When I asked him why he went after Joker he said that he didn't. He would not tell me more." 

I feel like I need that puke bowl again.

"Damian. How was he brought into Talia's care?" Bruce's words seem distant, like he is still processing the revelation that Damian just dropped on us.

"I do not know. Mother never divulged that information... Why are the Joker's fingertips burnt?" I turned around and examined it closer, sure enough, the pads of his index and middle finger looked like they had come in contact with hot metal.

"I'm going to be in my office. Call if you need anything." 

And with that stellar deflection Bruce walked up the stairs into the manor.

Damian all but leapt forward, sitting in the seat that had just been vacated by Bruce and bringing up the recently filed cowl footage. 

Tim had crept out about the same time that Bruce left, and was looking... Actually, other than the queasiness on his face he looked like better than before, likely due to the fact that the drugs made him sleep.

The footage that was brought up was embarrassing for us. It showed him finding and transporting us to the batmobile, only for it to turn horrifying when he finally located Jason and the Joker's whereabouts. 

The scream that filled the building Joker held Jason was nothing short of gut wrenching. When the footage revealed the Joker standing over Jason, a _branding iron_ in his hands... Let's just say that any issues I had with Jason killing Joker flew out the window. (Not that there were many to begin with, but still.)

Jason _did_ , in fact, blow up his helmet, catching the Joker in a ball of fire before putting him out of his misery with a knife to the throat.

Bruce didn't get much of a look at him before he ran off, but from what I could see he was covered in electrical burns and had a horrific J burned into his pectoral.

God, is it weird to wish that the Joker was still alive so that I could kill him myself?

-Bruce-

I called Talia. 

I seem to be doing that a lot lately.

The phone rang for all of 3 seconds before Talia's voice made its way into my ear.

"Beloved. I suppose that it's safe to assume that this is not a social call?"

"I need to know."

"About what? I told you I will not reveal Hood's identity, so if that is the reason you have called I will take my leave of you."

"I know who he is. How did you find Jason?" Her sharp inhalation of breath made me tense even further. 

Anything that Talia found difficult or disturbing would traumatize the ordinary individual beyond recovery.

"I found him on the streets of Gotham." With that single sentence all of the air was driven from my lungs.

"What?"

"He was catatonic, able to fight and survive, but nothing more. He didn't speak, didn't show emotion, and didn't respond to words. The physicians I found for him said that it was a result of the brain damage inflicted by the clown and oxygen deprivation. They weren't able to identify where that came from, seeing as there was no trace of the smoke he was supposed to have died from. Before you ask, we did test for the metahuman genome, and there was none." 

As her terrible oratory finished my mind began to run the chances I could have found him, the chances that necromancy was involved, and more. 

"He killed the Joker." A sigh flowed through the phone's speakers.

"I am aware. And as much as I wish I could have been the one to do it for him, I believed that it was your place to do so. I will not be so foolish as to think that you will care for him in the future."

"He is my _son_."

"He stopped being your son the moment you drove him to seek another parent. He stopped being your son when you didn't kill his personal monster, to the point where he was too afraid to go to Gotham before he had become the best. I assure you. He is _not_ your son. You lost that right."

The phone call ended, leaving me in a silent house with my thoughts and regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teachers: When you finish your homework you can work on other classwork.  
> Me maintaining eye contact while pulling out my computer to write a chapter: Yep definitely.


	29. The Essence of Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's ex girlfriend is awful... Just like the title pun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not Dead!  
> It turns out that taking the PSAT and having a one act performance is draining... So, sorry it took so long. However, I think you'll be happy to know that I have a few new story ideas ready.  
> Also!   
> 300 kudos.   
> I can't find enough words to say how grateful I am that I've had all of you amazing people reading my story.

-Roy-

The incident with the Joker didn't lend itself to uninterrupted sleep. After we had watched the absolute gold that is _Die Hard_ he had left to his own room on the ship, only to emerge 40 minutes later with bloodshot eyes and the look of someone willing to trade their soul for a cup of coffee. 

The coffee was poured and banter was exchanged. 

He had gotten a call from his mom, which had woken him up, who apparently wanted him to 'return home' or some shit. 

"Hey, man if your mom wants you to go home..."

"No... No I'm good. I don't really feel like being surrounded by assassins right now."

Ah, right.

A valid wish.

I sort of forgot that his mom was Talia al Ghul.

"OK. What do you want to do? 'Cause I feel like kicking some bad guys' asses. How about you?" A slight huff came, I'm not sure if that signals amusement or frustration, but I am determined to find out.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"Good, 'cause I know you said you wanted a vacation but..."

"My last vacation included me fighting a killer robot and saving your sorry ass."

"Wait. That was vacation?" Jason just nodded. "Oh my god, what is wrong with us?"

"I don't think I have time for this conversation." I snorted.

"What do you mean? We have all vacation?"

"Like I said." 

"Ouch... Anyways, what type of crime do you want to focus on?"

"Human trafficking." 

That... While not surprising, it is an oddly dark topic to focus on for vacation.

"Okay, what do you have in mind?"

As it turns out. We should never let Jason make the plans. 

Granted mine usually turn out worse, but somehow during our bust of the trafficking ring we had crossed paths with a weird ass lady with white hair and black eyes named Essence.

She's a high grade shit-hole. 

Not only did she say she was going to help us only to betray us, but her immortal ass had been responsible for the slaughter of her own mother and Jason's teacher.

So, now Jason and I are fighting her. I just wish that Kori hadn't stayed with the victims while we checked out the lead Essence said she had. We had been walking in a large hallway when she had suddenly summoned swords, that looked a lot like Jason's, and jumped on us.

Yeah, she's a crap-sack. 

I draw my bow and release arrow after arrow. She leaps over them, slashing at Jason. 

Their glow-swords are amazing. Seriously, I need me some of those.

"Why would you do it? She was your mom!"

"You speak as if she was not so obsessed with training you that she no longer fit that title."

I am _so_ not qualified to be witnessing this conversation.

"You know that's not true. She was just interested 'cause I somehow survived the cleansing."

"While that was impressive, it is not a reason to neglect me." As she spoke she twirled, I would have released an arrow, but that ran the risk of impaling Jason, and that's not really a risk I feel is necessary right now.

"She wasn't."

"She banished me from the All Caste!"

"Oh _boo hoo_. You do remember why, don't you?"

"I don't!" I yelled as I shot an arrow, nicking Essence. 

She dodged away from Hood, heading towards me instead.

Now, I'm no slouch with hand to hand, but those swords are no joke and there's no way I'm set up to deal with that right now. Jason lunged for her, but it was too late. I saw the hilt of the sword and then everything went black. 

When I came to it was to witness the glowing red sword Essence carried impaling itself in Jason's chest.

"Hood!" I cried out as Essence leaned in and spoke in a loud whisper.

"Your soul belongs to the sword." As soon as she said the words Jason grunted and replied, even though he would need all of his energy to heal from that wound.

"Funny enough, it just tingles." Once the words were out of his mouth the sword began to shake and the glow became brighter in pulses, the red glow becoming a beam of light.

When the light faded Jason was standing unharmed with her red sword, Essence nowhere in sight.

"What... What was that?" I sit up, wincing as the pain in my head spikes.

Jason sits down on the ground next to me, showing me the red sword.

"This is the Blood Blade. I wield the All Blades, which are just magical manifestations of my soul. Essence learned how to use the Blood Blade instead. The Blood Blade will claim any evil soul, but if it is used to kill a soul that isn't evil... Well it claims the soul of the wielder."

"That... Sounds rough."

"Yeah." He leaned back, throwing an arm over his eyes before muttering, "Man, dating her was such a mistake."

_What?_

"You... You dated _crazy assassin goddess?_ "

"Yeah. Like I said, it was a mistake."

"Man... Life doesn't like you very much does it?"

"Nah, but Death loves me."

"That sentence is a fuckin' ride." Jason snorted.

"Yeah."

We laid in silence for about 10 minutes before Kori showed up.

"Why are you laying on the ground? Is this a part of Earth culture that I missed?"

"Yeah it's called exhaustion."

I lay down next to Jason, closing my eyes for a moment.

We'll be fine. 

We're together.

-Jason-

It's been a month since Essence tried to kill me. 

5 weeks since the Joker died.

Since I killed the Joker.

5 weeks since I decided not to kill unless there was no other option that would get the civilian to safety.

My dreams... While they haven't gotten any better, they haven't gotten any worse and when you take into account the fact that he branded me... I think that's saying something.

Roy and Kori have been great, but it's time that I go back to my life in Gotham. Even if that means I need to deal with the bats.

I called Talia before I got on the plane, but there was only so much intel I could get from the league. The rest I'll just need to gather myself.

My gang has been relatively successful, but a few territory skirmishes hint at a brewing gang war. Pair that with the fact that my role in Head Industries hasn't decreased any and you have my current predicament.

Tons of work to do, and just me to do it.

Roy or Kori would come to Gotham in a heartbeat if I called but I... I need to do this on my own.

Gotham is _my_ city.

In a way that it was never even Bruce's.

I paid Gotham in blood for the right to survive. I paid the price when I rose too high. 

Now it's Gotham's turn. 

I paid it's price, now it's time for me to help pay off other's debt. 

As soon as I take to the rooftops I know that it's only a matter of time before one of the bat-pack show up.

However, I am surprised when I have been home for all of 30 minutes when a knock at my door sends my paranoia up a notch. 

When I open the door Bruce is standing there.

"Jason..." He breaths my name like he can't believe he would ever get to say it again. Which is fair, 'cause I did die.

My reply is a whisper.

"Hey B."


	30. Misconceptions and Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's family doesn't necessarily know what he's been through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter does the topics justice.  
> My dad loves the SuperBowl, so every year I sit through at least 8 hours of SuperBowl celebrations. The only saving grace this year is that I made frosted fudge brownies that I'm eating as though the world is ending tomorrow.  
> Also hugs.

-Bruce-

The moment I knew Jason was in Gotham I had Oracle track him down for me. 

The apartment was situated at the center of Crime Alley. I'm not exactly surprised, but that doesn't change the fact that it makes me uneasy being so close to where my parents were murdered. Either way, Jason calls it home and it's not like I ever let it stop me when it really matters.

The actual apartment building is nice for Crime Alley, but that just means that it meets code and likely isn't going to collapse if a gust of wind hit it wrong. As concerning as the location was, it makes easier for me to get to his apartment unnoticed. I knocked on the door, fully expecting him to not open the door.

To my surprise, Jason opened the door. He looked... better. 

"Jason..." Instead of slamming the door in my face like I would have expected from him he simply whispered,

"Hey B." We both stood there for what seemed like hours. My eyes searching for the similarities to the little boy I had taken in. "Um... Would you like to come in?" I nodded, awkwardly, following him into the apartment. 

It was extremely neat, a carry over from his childhood where he didn't have many belongings, now taking extra care with his possessions.

Jason and I stood inside, standing just as awkwardly as we were at the door. This time I decided it was up to me to relieve us of that awkwardness.

"How are you?" Jason jolted slightly, surprised by the noise in the silence.

"Fine." I raise an eyebrow and he crosses his arms defensively. "Are you here to ask me about how I'm _feeling_?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"The last time we saw each other I killed the Joker. Go ahead, get it off your chest."

"What off my chest?"

"The lecture you've been preparing for the past month? About how _we don't kill and you're disappointed_. Come on, lay it on me."

"That's not... Jason, that's not why I came here."

"Then why _are_ you here?"

"I... I wanted to see you."

"Look, B. If you're only here to feed your guilt you can fuck off."

"Jay..."

"Don't call me that."

"Jason... I'm... I'm so sorry that I didn't get there in time." Jason laughed then, broken and hysterical. 

"Didn't I just tell you not to do that? It was never your fault. I made my choices, you had nothing to do with what happened."

"Jason it... has recently come to my attention that I may have... drawn some conclusions that were untrue surrounding the circumstances of your death." Jason snorts.

"Really? What gave you that idea?"

"What... What happened that day?"

"I'm not talking about this with you." Jason turned away, running his hand through his two-toned hair. 

"Are you going to be returning to vigilante work?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I can't allow you to keep killing in Gotham."

"You don't _allow me_ to do anything." Jason whipped around

"Jason, if you don't stop then I'll have to bring you in."

"Great. Glad we got to what you wanted to talk about. I'm not killing right now, so don't get you bat-panties in a bunch." 

"Jason."

"That's my name, don't wear it out."

"What happened?"

"I'm not talking about this with you."

"I need to know." 

"Right. You _need to know._ God, I forgot what an asshole you can be... You know, I forgave you. All the shit you've said about me over the years, replacing me when I wasn't even cold in the ground... Hell, even for not killing that fucking clown. There your guilt is relieved."

"I never..."

"Don't you _dare!_ Don't you dare say you didn't replace me! I _died_. I was _murdered._ It would be different if you made sure the kid couldn't be killed the same way I was, _but you didn't._ You just put another kid in that uniform and sent him out to fight a war that you _will never win_. A war that you can never walk away from once you start." 

I... I don't know what to say to him. I never did when he was angry. He has a way of weaponizing his words to leave you speechless.

"That wasn't what I..."

"I don't care what you meant to do. I can forgive you for a lot. But I won't stand by and watch your mistakes kill people. The Joker is dead. I'm sorry for your loss."

"I don't care that he's dead. I care that you were the one to do it. It's not for us to decide."

"I don't give a fuck about your higher moral bullshit. He's dead. Deal with it."

I decide to back off. Jason... He's not killing, that will have to be enough. 

"Jason... I'm sorry. It was never supposed to be a dishonor to your memory."

"You should have thought about that before you put 'A Good Soldier' as my memorial. I was never a soldier. I was supposed to be your son."

"You _are_ my son." Jason ignores me. 

_How can he think isn't my son?_

"Then again, I guess it makes sense. Soldiers who disobey orders get killed."

" _No._ That is not what that meant. It was supposed to be a reminder as to why we fight."

"Sure. We fight so that kids can get killed. Good talk." Time to change the subject.

"Jason, why didn't you come home?"

"Didn't think I'd be welcome."

"Of course you're welcome."

"Sorry if I don't believe it based on the audio logs." The air felt like it had been punched out of my lungs.

"What?"

"Oh, you didn't think that your cameras could be hacked? Sorry B, but you're no Oracle."

"I don't know what you think you heard, but Jason..."

"I know what I heard. ' _Don't run off against orders or you'll end up like Jason.' 'Jason never thought things through, don't be like him._ ' And I might be paraphrasing slightly, but they all run together so much it gets hard to pick a specific quote." 

"Jason, I..."

"What? You just said that you're pretty sure you don't understand what happened. Are you really going to preach at me about the fact that an _innocent woman_ got killed in my carelessness?"

That toxic tone... That was new. His eyes were glowing an acidic green and Dick's warning of the Lazarus pit came to the forefront of my mind.

"What happened? I just want to know."

"Oh? You just want to know that I didn't walk into that warehouse because I thought I could take him? That I didn't drag Sheila along because you said not to go in alone, and therefore I just took a civilian into the line of fire."

"That's not what I thought. Jason, the Joker had her captive."

"So that's where you went wrong. Huh. I always wondered. No, B, he didn't. She came out of the warehouse and I tried to convince her to get away. I told her I was Robin to get her to trust me. You know what she did? She decided that the only way for Joker to stop blackmailing her was to tell me he was gone, then hold a gun on me when I tried to get away." 

I feel sick. 

Jason was her child.

And I... I'm not much better. I betrayed him the same way she did. 

I stood up and crushed him to my chest.

Jason stood stiffly within my arms as I held him but he was there, wonderfully alive.

"I'm sorry." I whispered it into his hair, the top of his head reaching my nose. At my words Jason relaxed, hesitantly wrapping his arms around my back.

"I already said I forgive you."

He might have forgiven me, but I sure as hell haven't forgiven myself. 

However, he's here. 

He's alive. 

And with any luck, he'll be willing to come home.

-Dick-

When Jason got back to Gotham it was a flurry of reunions and introductions. He still worked at Head Industries and didn't live at the manor, but he was slowly integrating himself into our patrols and came by every once in a while to hang out with Alfred or Damian. 

Cass had decided she would protect him to her last breath within 3 seconds of meeting him and Steph had bonded with him over their shared experiences. 

Babs had given him a tight hug and a slap for not calling. 

Everyone else had reacted as normal. 

The Red Hood gang still controlled Crime Alley, but they were more of a teenage fight off other street gangs type gang at this point. 

The time came where I decided that it was my job as an older brother to make sure he was alright. 

The fact that he had been nicked by a bullet had a little something to do with it, but I followed him to his apartment and knocked on the window as he was stitching the graze up.

His body still bore the numerous scars, but he threw on a hoodie before letting me into his actual apartment. 

"What do you want?"

"I can't just want to make sure you're OK?"

"I've been stitching myself up on my own for years now, what do you really want?"

"To apologize." He looked startled, then wary.

"For what?"

"For being such a shitty brother to you before..."

"Before I died."

"Yeah..."

"Well, no biggie, I forgive you. You can go now."

"What? No way! I need to make up for missed time! I brought a movie." I said brightly, holding up the case of _Frozen._

"What the hell is that monstrosity?"

"A masterpiece. That's what it is. And since it came out when you were... Not around. I'm assuming that you haven't seen it yet."

"Fine. But if it sucks I'm kicking you out."

"Fair enough."

The movie was great. 

Jason seemed mildly amused by it, but not by the fact that I knew it by heart. 

Talent is never appreciated anymore.

When the movie ended Jason just chucked a blanket at me and said that I could claim the couch.

I woke up to a bump.

I normally wouldn't be worried, but when it happened again I went into Jason's room.

He was tied up in twisted sheets, thrashing oddly and occasionally bumping against the wall. His face was twisted up in pain and his hair was plastered to his forehead. 

It took me all of a second to leap over to him and shake his shoulder. 

He responded with a punch to my face that would have connected had I not been prepared for it. 

"Calm down. It's OK. You're safe." I spoke softly allowing him to take in his surroundings. It was only then that I realized that his fist was still in my grasp. 

I released it, but not before realizing that he had very odd scars on his fingers.

"Sorry."

"What? No! Don't apologize! You don't choose nightmares."

"I woke you up."

"I'm glad you did. Nobody deserves nightmares." I sat next to him on the bed for a few minutes before I garnered the courage to ask where he got the scars. "You don't have to answer, I'm just curious."

"I... I woke up."

"Um... Yeah. You did."

"No. I woke up after being dead. It was dark, and it was surprisingly warm. I... I dug out." 

The blood in my veins turns to ice.

"What?" I breathed.

"I dug out of my coffin, OK!"

"No. Nothing about that it remotely OK." I wrapped my arms around him as he shook.

"My resurrection... It wasn't pretty. It wasn't neat. I think it was some big cosmic accident."

"Then I am so, so glad that the cosmos had an accident." I whisper into his shoulder, meaning every word.


	31. The Justice League

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because he still technically still has an arrest warrant out for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Gosh. I think I want to stab my brain. Like... What the heck?  
> I feed you, I let you rest (sometimes), and yet you still treat me like this.   
> Why?  
> ANYWAYS.   
> So sorry this took so long to get out.

-Jason-

The moment the aliens invade should have been a solid indicator that today was going to be a bad day for me. It was an all hands on deck scenario, even the morally questionable heroes were being called in. The thought didn't even cross my mind not to show up. I had been in Star City with Roy dealing with a drugs bust when it all went down, so I wasn't anywhere near the Bats.

Of course, had I known that there was a warrant out for my arrest I wouldn't have stuck around afterwards.

Dammit Bruce! This is why you tell me things!

I had been assigned to a sector that finished up early. I feel left out honestly. Why did I get stuck with the weak-ass attack group?

I was standing on the watchtower when Supescout flew up to me. 

It's moments like these that I'm glad that I thought to lead line my helmet.

I might be on... Alright terms with the Bats, but that doesn't mean that I want the Justice League all up in my business quite yet. 

Don't get me wrong, I miss Aunt Diana and Uncle Clark, but I still have some things to figure out. 

One of those things is how to reveal the fact that I'm a murderous crime-lord vigilante. Well. I was murderous. Now I'm just on the fence about the whole deal.

But still a crime lord. 

That's gonna be a lot of fun to explain. 

Either way, I'm not big league enough for them to take notice. 

...Right?

Wrong. 

"Red Hood."

"Um... Hi."

"I'm going to have to ask you to step into this cell."

Well shit. 

This must be because of my vacation.

Ah, the price you pay for relaxation.

I'm not equipped to deal with the Justice League today. That takes planning, and quite a bit of preparation.

Besides, I don't really want my first impression with them to be me accidentally hurting them worse than superficial damage. Desperation can lead to some pretty awful mistakes. 

I step into the cell, hearing the door close behind me does nothing for the claustrophobic feeling settling beneath my skin, but I sit on the small cot, ignoring how close the walls are to each other.

It feels like days that I'm stuck there, but I know logically that it's likely been around 2 hours.

When the cell opened it was to the faces of Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow (my sincerest apologies for causing trouble in your city), and Martian Manhunter. 

Oh. 

B isn't here to vouch for me.

This isn't gonna end well.

I walk out, aware of their eyes searching me for weapons, likely seeing that I in no way was ready to deal with this shit.

I'm led to a meeting table where they sit solemnly. 

"Red Hood. The Justice League has a warrant out for your arrest. Due to your involvement in the deaths of numerous assassins." Superman spoke with gravitas that seemed almost unusual for him.

"Self defense."

"The merits of your self defense claim are not under scrutiny. Your mental faculties are." 

I turned to Martian Manhunter, a sinking feeling settling in my gut.

Fuck my life.

-Clark-

The Red Hood's immediate surrender and passive stance throughout the entire ordeal was... Unexpected.

He seemed to be a mess of contradictions. I had been fully expecting him to fight me or flee when I asked him to go into the cell. His heart rate had spiked, but it seems that he just might not like being restrained in any way. 

I suppose that makes sense. 

The caginess does too.

He reminds me a bit of Bruce if I'm being honest.

"We would like to conduct a psychoanalysis." J'onn spoke quietly, but with power. 

"I'm not letting you root around in my head. You don't want to see what's in there."

"We just want to make sure that you're in the right mind. You're young, and..." Diana spoke 

"Who told you that I'm young?"

"Batman alerted us to your age."

"Well did he tell you that he figured out who I am and you can just let me go home?"

"...No."

"'Course not, why would he do that?" Hood mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms and slouching back in his chair.

I wish I could see his face. That lead lining is irritating.

He sat there pouting while we tried to talk him into letting J'onn do a quick assessment. 

Suddenly he sat up.

"If I let you read my mind can I go?"

"With a short discussion afterwards to set you up with a mentor so that you can continue to improve." That earned a snort but he agreed to let J'onn into his mind.

J'onn's eyes glowed a faint green, showing that he had established the connection. We sat there silently observing the miniscule changes in the postures of both of them.

J'onn broke the connection with a startled shout. 

Hood just rolled his shoulders, emitting a slightly sickening popping noise.

"There you got the grand tour. I'm leaving." Oliver attempted to rouse J'onn from the shocked reverie he seemed to be stuck in.

"How do you have memories from beyond death's gate?" J'onn's quiet voice was shaken.

"'Cause I lived it... Bad choice of words. I died it." 

Suddenly a streak of red and green flew into the room, barreling into Hood. 

Hood simply caught the blur and began speaking rapidly in a foreign language. I looked to Diana for a translation, but she simply seemed amused by the interaction, so it was likely alright.

Robin was chattering away in what seemed like Arabic while Batman strode into the room.

I drew him aside.

"He died at one point. J'onn's analysis was interrupted by it."

"He _let_ J'onn read his mind?"

"Yeah, it seemed like he just wanted to leave."

"I'll be taking him back to Gotham."

"What? Why?"

"He's stopped killing and is now following bat protocol."

"...Alright, but Batman..."

"Yo, dad? Can we go home now? I need to sleep."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as we all exclaimed,

" _DAD?_ "

"You have a problem Bats." Ollie cackled as Robin worked the helmet off of Hood's head.

It revealed a young man who looked absolutely exhausted, even with the domino mask covering his eyes.

His two toned hair, pale skin, and light freckles sparked something in my memory. However, it was the smirk that finished the deal.

"Jason?" He flinched.

"God, I don't have the energy for this."

With that he walked over to the Zeta tubes and left. His calling card recognized as Robin. 

Leaving all of us to ask our questions of an equally tired Batman.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I loved writing this and hopefully I can get the next chapter up soon! Please comment, I'd love to hear what you think.


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